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MORAL  SCIENCE: 


A    COMPEll^TDIUM    OF    ETHICS, 


1012,0 


BY 


ALBXAXDEE    BAW,  M.  A., 

AUTHOR    or     "  JTENTAL     SCXITNCE  :     A    COMPKNTiltTM    OF     PSTCHOLOOT  ;  " 
SENSES    AND  THE  rVTELLECT  ;  "     "'THE  CMOTIOXS  AlfD    THE  "WTLL  ;  " 
MANUAL  OF  RHETORIC  ;  "  PROFESSOR  OF  LOGIC  IN  THE  UNITERSITT 
OF  ABERDEEN,  ETC.,  ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:    CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  "by 

D.  APPLETON   &   COMPANY, 

Id  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 

District  of  New  York. 


Printed  b? 

S).  Hppleton  &.  Company 

*Kcw  li>orft,  •».  S.  a. 


1UU\ 


PREFACE. 


The  present  Dissertation  falls  under  two  divisions. 

The  first  division,  entitled  The  Theory  of  Ethics,  gives 
an  account  of  the  questions  or  points  brought  into  discus- 
sion, and  handles  at  length  the  two  of  greatest  prominence, 
the  Ethical  Standard,  and  the  Moral  Faculty. 

The  second  division — on  The  Ethical  Systems— is  a  full 
detail  of  all  the  systems,  ancient  and  modern,  by  conjoined 
Abstract  and  Summary.  With  few  exceptions,  an  abstract 
is  made  of  each  author's  exposition  of  his  own  theory,  the 
fubiess  being  measured  by  relative  importance ;  while,  for 
better  comparing  and  remembering  the  several  theories, 
they  are  summarized  at  the  end,  on  a  uniform  plan. 

The  connection  of  Ethics  with  Psychology  is  necessarily 
intimate ;  the  leading  ethical  controversies  involve  a  refer- 
ence to  mind,  and  can  be  settled  only  by  a  more  thorough 
understanding  of  mental  processes. 

Although  the  present  volume  is  properly  a  continuation 
of  the  Manual  of  Psychology  and  the  History  of  Philosophy, 
recently  published,  and  contains  occasional  references  to 
that  treatise,  it  may  still  be  perused  as  an  independent  work 
on  the  Ethical  Doctrines  and  Systems. 

A.  B. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 


PAET  L 

THE    THEORY    OF   ETHICS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
PRELIMINARY  VIEW  OF  ETHICAL  QUESTIOXS. 

PAOB 

I. — The  Ethical  Standard.     Summary  of  views , 15 

[. — Psychological   questions.      1.  The  Moral  Faculty.      2.  The 

Freedom  of  the  "Will ;  the  sources  of  Disinterested  conduct 17 

IIL — The  BoxuM,  Summum  Bonum,  or  Happiness 18 

lY. — The  Classification  of  Duties,  and  the  Moral  Code 19 

V. — Relationship  of  Ethics  to  Politics ib. 

VL — Relation  to  Theology ib. 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  ETHICAL  STANDARD. 

1.  Ethics,  as  a  department  of  Practice,  is  defined  by  its  End 20 

2.  The  Ethical  End  is  the  welfare  of  society,  realized  through  rules 

of  conduct  duly  enforced ib. 

2.  The  Rules  of  Ethics  are  of  two  kinds.     The  first  are  imposed 

under  a   penalty.      These   are   Laws  proper,   or    Obligatory 

Morality ib. 

4.  The  second  are  supported  by  Rewards ;   constituting  Optional 

Morality,  Merit,  Virtue,  or  Nobleness 21 

6.  The  Ethical  End,  or  Morality,  as  it  has  been,  is  founded  partly  in 

Utility,  and  partly  in  Sentiment 23 

6.  The  Ethical  End  is  limited,  according  to  the  view  taken  of  Moral 

Government,  or  Authority : — Distinction  between  Security  and 
Improvement 24 

7.  Morality,  in  its  essential  parts,  is  *  Eternal  and  Immutable ; '  in 

other  parts,  it  varies  with  custom 26 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

8.  Enquiry  as  to  the  kind  of  proof  that  an  Ethical  Standard  is 

susceptible  of.     The  ultimate  end  of  action  must  be  referred  to 
individual  judgment 26 

9.  The  judgment  of  Mankind  is,  with  some  qualifications,  in  favour 

of  Happiness  as  the  supreme  end  of  conduct 27 

10.  The  Ethical  end  that  society  is  tending  to,  is   Happiness,   or 

Utility 28 

11.  Objections  against  Utility,     I. — Happiness  is  not  the  sole  aim  of 

human  pursuit 3C 

12.  II, — The  consequences  of  actions  are  beyond  calculation 31 

13.  Ill, — The  principle  of  Utility  contains  no  motives  to  seek  the 

happiness  of  others 32 


CHAPTER  III. 
THE  MORAL  FACULTY. 

1.  Question  whether  the  Moral  Faculty  be  simple  or  complex 34 

2.  Arguments  in  favour  of  its  being  simple  and  intuitive : — First,  Our 

moral  judgments  are  immediate  and  instantaneous ib. 

3.  Secondly,  It  is  a  faculty  common  to  all  mankind ib. 

4.  Thirdly,  It  is  different  from  any  other  mental  phenomenon 35 

5.  Replies  to  these  Arguments,  and  Counter-arguments:  —  First; 

Immediateness  of  operatinn  is  no  proof  of  an  innate  origin. .  . .     ib. 

6.  Secondly,  The  alleged  similarity  of  men's  moral  judgments  holds 

only  in  a  limited  degree.     Answers  given  by  the  advocates  of 
an  Innate  sentiment,  to  the  discrepancies ib. 

7.  Thirdly,  Moral  right  and  wrong  is  not  an  indivisible  property,  but 

an  extensive  Code  of  regulations 37 

8.  Fourthly,  Intuition  is  not  sufficient  to  settle  debated  questions. .     38 

9.  Fifthly,  It  is  possible  to  analyze  the  Moral  Faculty : — Estimate 

of  the  operation  of  (1)  Prudence,  (2)  Sympathy,  and  (3)  the 
Emotions  generally 39 

10.  The  peculiar  attribute  of  Rightness  arises  from  the  institution  of 

Government  or  Authority 41 

11.  The  speciality  of  Conscience,  or  the  Moral  Sentiment,  is  identi- 

fied with  our  education  under  Government,  or  Authority 42 


CONTENTS.  7 

PAET   II. 

THE    ETHICAL    SYSTEMS. 

PAGS 

i  SoKRATES.  His  subjects  were  Men  and  Society.  His  Ethical  Stand- 
ard indistinctly  expressed.  Resolved  Virtue  into  Knowledge. 
Ideal  of  pursuit — Well-doing.  Inculcated  self-denying  Precepts. 
Political  Theory.     Connexion  of  Ethics  v,  ith  Theology  slender  ....     46 

Plato.  Review  of  the  Dialogues  containing  portions  of  Ethical 
Theory: — Alkihiades  I.  discusses  Just  and  Unjust.  Alkihiades  IL 
the  Knowledge  of  Good  or  Reason.  Hippias  Minor  identifies  Vir- 
tue with  Knowledge.  Minos  (on  Law)  refers  everything  to  tne 
decision  of  an  Ideal  Wise  man.  Ladies  resolves  Courage,  and 
Charmides  Tempei-ance,  into  Intelligence  or  the  supreme  science  of 
good  and  evil.  Lysis  (on  Friendship)  gives  the  Idea  of  the  good 
as  the  supreme  object  of  affection.  Menon  enquires,  Is  virtue  teuch- 
ahle?  and  iterates  the  science  of  good  and  evil.  Protagoras  makes 
Pleasure  the  only  good,  and  Pain  the  only  evil,  and  define.)  the 
science  of  good  and  evil  as  the  comparison  of  pleasures  and  pains. 
Gorgias  contradicts  Protagoras,  and  sets  up  Order  or  Discipline  as 
a  final  end.  Politikus  (on  Government)  repeats  the  Sokratit  ideal 
of  the  One  Wise  man.  Philebus  makes  Good  a  compound  of  Pleas- 
ure with  Intelligence,  the  last  predominating.  The  Republic  as- 
similates Society  to  an  Individual  man,  and  defines  Justice  as  the 
balance  of  the  constituent  parts  of  each.  Timceus  repeats  the  doc- 
trine that  wickedness  is  disease,  and  not  voluntary.  The  Laws 
place  all  conduct  under  the  prescription  of  the  civil  magistrate. 
Summary  of  Plato's  views 49 

The  Cynics  and  the  Cyrenaics.  Cynic  succession.  The  proper 
description  of  the  tenets  of  both  schools  comes  under  the  Summum 
Bonum.  The  Cynic  Ideal  was  the  minimum  of  wants,  and  their 
self-denial  was  compensated  by  exemption  from  fear,  and  by  pride 
of  superiority.  The  Cyrenaic  Aristippus  : — Was  the  first  to  main- 
tain that  the  summum  bonum  is  Pleasure  and  the  absence  of  Pain. 
Future  Pleasures  and  Pains  taken  into  the  account.  His  Psy- 
chology of  Pleasure  and  Pain B6 

Aristotle.     Abstract  of  the  Xicomachean  Ethics 63 

Book  First.  The  Chief  Good,  or  Highest  End  of  human  endeavours. 
Great  differences  of  opinion  as  to  the  nature  of  Happiness.  The 
Platonic  Idea  of  the  Good  criticised.     The  Highest  End  an  end- 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAOl 

in-itself.  Virtue  referable  to  the  special  work  of  man ;  growing 
out  of  his  mental  capacity.  External  conditions  necessary  to  vir- 
tue and  happiness.  The  Soul  subdivided  into  parts,  each  having 
its  characteristic  virtue  or  excellence 63 

Book  Second.  Definition  and  classification  of  the  Moral  virtues. 
Virtue  the  result  of  Habit.  Doctrine  of  the  Mean.  The  test  of 
virtue  to  feel  no  pain.  Virtue  defined  {genus)  an  acquirement  or  a 
State,  {differentia)  a  Mean  between  extremes.  Rules  for  hitting  the 
Mean 67 

Book  Third.  The  Voluntary  and  Involuntary.  Deliberate  Prefe- 
rence. Virtue  and  vice  are  voluntary.  The  virtues  in  detail : — 
Courage  [Self-sacrifice  implied  in  Courage].     Temperance 71 

Book  Fourth.  Liberality.  Magnificence.  Magnanimity.  Mildness. 
Good-breeding.     Modesty 76 

Book  Fifth.  Justice : — Universal  Justice  includes  all  virtue.  Par- 
ticular Justice  is  of  two  kinds,  Distributive  and  Corrective , .     79 

Book  Sixth.  Intellectual  Excellences,  or  Virtues  of  the  Intellect. 
The  Rational  part  of  the  Soul  embraces  the  Scientific  and  the  De- 
liberative functions.  Science  deals  with  the  necessary.  Prudence 
or  the  Practical  Reason ;  its  aims  and  requisites.  In  virtue,  good 
dispositions  must  be  accompanied  with  Prudence 81 

Book  Seventh.  Gradations  of  moral  strength  and  moral  weakness. 
Continence  and  Incontinence 86 

Books  Eighth  and  Ninth.  Friendship : — Grounds  of  Friendship. 
Varieties  of  Friendship,  corresponding  to  different  objects  of  lik- 
ing. Friendship  between  the  virtuous  is  alone  perfect.  A  settled 
habit,  not  a  mere  passion.  Equality  in  friendship.  Political  friend- 
ships. Explanation  of  the  family  affections.  Rule  of  reciprocity 
of  services.  Conflicting  obligations.  Cessation  of  friendships. 
Goodwill.  Love  felt  by  benefactors.  Self-love.  Does  the  happy 
man  need  friends  ? 88 

Book  Tenth.  Pleasure  : — Theories  of  Pleasure — Eudoxus,  Speu- 
sippus,  Plato.  Pleasure  is  not  The  Good.  Pleasure  defined.  The 
pleasures  of  Intellect.  Nature  of  the  Good  or  Happiness  resumed. 
Perfect  happiness  found  only  in  the  philosophical  life ;  second  to 
which  is  the  active  social  life  of  the  good  citizen.  Happiness  of 
the  gods.     Transition  from  Ethics  to  Politics 92 

The  Stoics.  The  succession  of  Stoical  philosophers.  Theological 
Doctrines  of  the  Stoics : — The  Divine  Government ;  human  beings 
must  rise  to  the  comprehension  of  Universal  Law;  the  soul  at 
death  absorbed  into  the  divine  essence ;  argument  from  Design. 
Psychology : — Theory  of  Pleasure  and  Pain ;  theory  of  the  Will. 
Doctrine  of  Happiness  or  the  Good : — Pain  no  evil ;  discipline  of 


CONTENTS.  » 

PAOB 

endurance — Apathy.  Theory  of  Virtue  : — Subordination  of  self 
to  the  larger  interests ;  their  view  of  active  Beneficence ;  the 
Stoical  paradoxes  ;  the  idea  of  Duty ;  consciousness  of  Self-im- 
provement       99 

Epicprus.  Life  and  writings.  His  successors.  Virtue  and  vice 
referred  by  him  to  Pleasures  and  Pains  calculated  by  Reason. 
Freedom  from  Pain  the  primary  object.  Regulation  of  desires. 
Pleasure  good  if  not  leading  to  pain.  Bodily  feeling  the  founda- 
tion of  sensibility.  Mental  feelings  contain  memory  and  hope. 
The  greatest  miseries  are  from  the  delusions  of  hope,  and  from  the 
torments  of  fear.  Fear  of  Death  and  Fear  of  the  Gods.  Relations 
with  others ;  Justice  and  Friendship — both  based  on  reciprocity. 
Virtue  and  Happiness  inseparable.  Epicureanism  the  type  of  all 
systems  grounded  on  enlightened  self-interest Ill 

The  Neo-Platonists.  The  Moral  End  to  be  attained  through  an 
intellectual  regimen.  The  soul  being  debased  by  its  connection 
with  matter,  the  aim  of  human  action  is  to  regain  the  spiritual  life. 
The  first  step  is  the  practice  of  the  cardinal  virtues  :  the  next  the 
purifying  virtues.  Happiness  is  the  undisturbed  life  of  contem 
plation.  Correspondence  of  the  Ethical,  with  the  Metaphysical 
scheme 121 

Scholastic  Ethics.  Abaelard  : — Lays  great  stress  on  the  subjec- 
tive element  in  morality ;  highest  human  good,  love  to  God  ;  actions 
judged  by  intention,  and  intention  by  conscience.  St.  Bernard  : — 
Two  degrees  of  virtue.  Humanity  and  Lovo.  John  of  Salisbury: 
— Combines  philosophy  and  theology  ;  doctrine  of  Happiness ;  the 
lower  and  higher  desires.  Alexander  of  Hales.  Bonaventura. 
Albertus  Magnus.  Aquinas: — Aristotelian  mode  of  enquiry  as 
to  the  end  ;  God  the  highest  good  ;  true  happiness  lies  in  the  self- 
sufficing  theoretic  intelligence ;  virtue  ;  division  of  the  virtues ....    123 

HoBBES.  (Abstract  of  the  Ethical  part  of  Leviathan).  Constituents 
of  man's  nature.  The  Good.  Pleasure.  The  simple  passions. 
Theory  of  the  Will.  Good  and  evil.  Conscience.  Virtue.  Posi- 
tion of  Ethics  in  the  Sciences.  Power,  Worth,  Dignity.  Happi- 
ness a  perpetual  progress ;  consequences  of  the  restlessness  of 
desire.  Natural  state  of  mankind ;  a  state  of  enmity  and  war. 
Necessity  of  articles  of  peace,  called  Laws  of  Nature.  Law 
defined.  Rights  ;  Renunciation  of  rights  ;  Contract ;  Merit.  Jus- 
tice. Laws  of  Gratitude,  Complaisance,  Pardon  upon  repentance. 
Laws  against  Cruelty,  Contumely,  Pride,  Arrogance.  Laws  of 
Nature,  how  fa."  binding.     Summary 129 

Cumberland.  Standard  of  Moral  Good  summed  up  in  Benevolence. 
The  moral  faculty  is  the  Reason,    apprehending  the  Nature  of 


10  CONTENTS. 

PAOB 

Things.  Innate  Ideas  an  insufficient  foundation.  Will.  Dis- 
interested action.  Happiness.  Moral  Code,  the  common  good  of 
all  rational  beings.  Obligations  in  respect  of  giving  and  of  receiving. 
Politics.     Religion 142 

CuDWORTH.  Moi-al  Good  and  Evil  cannot  be  arbitrary.  The  mind 
has  a  power  of  Intellection,  above  Sense,  for  aiming  at  the  eternal 
and  immutable  verities 146 

Clarke.  The  eternal  Fitness  and  Unfitness  of  Things  determine 
Justice,  Equity,  Goodness  and  Truth,  and  lay  corresponding  obli- 
gations upon  reasonable  creatures.  The  sanction  of  Rewards  and 
Punishments  secondary  and  additional.     Our  Duties 148 

WoLL ASTON.     Resolves  good  and  evil  into  Truth  and  Falsehood  ....    152 

Locke.  Arguments  against  Innate  Practical  Principles.  Freedom 
of  the  Will.     Moral  Rules  grounded  in  law ib. 

Butler.  Characteristics  of  our  Moral  Perceptions.  Disinterested 
Benevolence  a  fact  of  our  constitutions.  Our  passions  and  affec- 
tions do  not  aim  at  self  as  their  immediate  end.  The  Supremacy 
of  Conscience  established  from  our  moral  nature.  Meanings  of 
Nature.  Benevolence  not  ultimately  at  variance  with  Self- 
Love 159 

Hutcheson. — Primary  feelings  of  the  mind.  Finer  perceptions — 
Beauty,  Sympathy,  the  Moral  Sense,  Social  feelings ;  the  benevo- 
lent order  of  the  world  suggesting  Natural  Religion.  Order  or 
subordination  of  the  feelincrs  as  Motives ;  position  of  Benevolence. 
The  Moral  Faculty  distinct  and  independent.  Confirmation  of  the 
doctrine  from  the  Sense  of  Honour.  Happiness.  The  tempers  and 
characters  bearing  on  happiness.  Duties  to  God.  Circumstances 
aflfecting  the  moral  good  or  evil  of  actions.     Rights  and  Laws. ...   166 

Mandeville.  Virtue  supported  solely  by  self-interest.  Compassion 
resolvable  into  self.  Pride  an  important  source  of  moral  virtue. 
Private  vices,  public  benefits.     Origin  of  Society 179 

Hume.  Question  whether  Reason  or  Sentiment  be  the  foundation 
of  morals.  The  esteem  for  Benevolence  shows  that  Utility  enters 
into  virtue.  Proofs  that  Justice  is  founded  solely  on  Utility. 
Political  Society  has  utility  for  its  end.  The  Laws.  Why  Utility 
pleases.  Qualities  useful  to  ourselves.  Qualities  agreeable  (1)  to 
ourselves,  and  (2)  to  others.  Obligation.  The  respective  share  of 
Reason  and  of  Sentiment  in  moral  approbation.     Benevolence  not 

resolvable  into  Self-Love 184 

Price.  The  distinctions  of  Right  and  Wrong  are  perceived  by  the 
Understanding.  The  Beauty  and  Deformity  of  Actions.  The 
feelings  have  some  part  in  our  moral  discrimination.  Self-Love 
and  Benevolence.     Good  and  ill  Desert.     Obligation.     Divisions  of 


CONTENTS.  11 

PAGE 

Virtue.  Intention  as  an  element  in  virtuous  action.  Estimate  of 
degrees  of  Virtue  and  Vice 186 

Adam  Smith.  Illustration  of  the  workings  of  Sympathy.  Mutual 
sympathy.  The  Amiable  and  the  Respectable  Virtues.  How  far 
the  several  passions  are  consistent  with  Propriety.  Influences  of 
prosperity  and  adversity  on  moral  judgments.  The  Sense  of  Merit 
and  Demerit.  Self-approbation.  Love  of  Praise  and  of  Praise- 
worthiness.  Influence  and  authority  of  Conscience.  Self-par- 
tiality ;  corrected  by  the  use  of  General  Rules.  Connexion  of 
Utility  with  Moral  Approbation.  Influence  of  Custom  on  the 
Moral  Sentiments.  Character  of  Virtue.  Self-command.  Opinion 
regarding  the  theory  of  the  Moral  Sense 205 

Hakilet.  Account  of  Disinterestedness.  The  Moral  Sense  a  pro- 
duct of  Association 219 

Ferguson.     (Xote) 219 

Reid.  Duty  not  to  be  resolved  into  Interest.  Conscience  an  ori- 
ginal power  of  the  mind.  Axiomatic  first  principles  of  Morals. 
Objections  to  the  theory  of  Utility ib, 

Stewart.  The  Moral  Faculty  an  original  power.  Criticism  of 
opposing  views.  Moral  Obligation :  connexion  with  Religion. 
Duties.     Happiness:    classification  of  pleasures 225 

Brown.  Moral  approbation  a  simple  emotion  of  the  mind.  Univer- 
sality of  moral  distinctions.  Objections  to  the  theory  of  Utility. 
Disinterested  sentiment 232 

Paley.  The  Moral  Sense  not  int'.rtive.  Happiness.  Virtue :  its 
definition.  Moral  Obligation  resolved  into  the  command  of  God. 
Utility  a  criterion  of  the  Divine  Will.  Utility  requires  us  to  con- 
sider ^rcnera?  consequences.     Rights.     Duties 237 

Bextham.  Utility  the  sole  foundation  of  Morals.  Principles  adverse 
to  Utility.  The  Four  Sanctions  of  Right.  Comparative  estimate 
of  Pleasures  and  Pains.  Classification  of  Pleasures  and  Pains. 
Merit  and  Demerit.  Pleasures  and  pains  viewed  as  Motives :  some 
motives  are  Social  or  tutelary,  others  Dissocial  or  Self-regarding. 
Dispositions.  The  consequences  of  a  mischievous  act.  Punish- 
ment. Private  Ethics  (Prudence)  and  Legislation  distinguished; 
their  respective  spheres 24$ 

Mackintosh.  Universality  of  Moral  Distinctions.  Antithesis  or 
Reason  and  Passion.  It  is  not  virtuous  acts  but  virtuous  disposi- 
tions that  outweigh  the  pains  of  self-sacrifice.  The  moral  senti- 
ments have  for  their  objects  Dispositions.  Utility.  Development 
of  Conscience  through  Association ;  the  constituents  are  Gratitude, 
Sympathy,  Resentment  and  Shame,  together  with  Education.  Re- 
ligion must  presuppose  Morality.     Objections  to  Utility  criticised. 


12  CONTENTS. 

FAGB 

Duties  to  ourselves,  an  improper  expression.  Reference  of  moral 
sentiments  to  the  Will 256 

James  Mill.  Primary  constituents  of  the  Moral  Faculty — pleasu- 
rable and  painful  sensations.  The  Causes  of  these  sensations.  The 
Ideas  of  them,  and  of  their  causes.  Hope,  Fear;  Love,  Joy; 
Hatred,  Aversion.  Remote  causes  of  pleasures  and  pains- 
Wealth,  Power,  Dignity,  and  their  opposites.  Affections  towards 
our  fellow-creatures — Friendship,  Kindness,  &c.  Motives.  Dis- 
positions. Applications  to  the  virtue  of  Prudence.  Justice — by 
what  motives  supported.  Beneficence.  Importance  in  moral 
training,  of  Praise  and  Blame,  and  their  associations ;  the  Moral 
Sanction.     Derivation  of  Disinterested  Feelings 265 

Austin.  Laws  defined  and  classified.  The  Divine  Laws ;  how  are 
we  to  know  the  Divine  Will  ?  Utility  the  sole  criterion.  Objec- 
tions to  Utility.  Criticism  of  the  theory  of  a  Moral  Sense.  Pre- 
vailing misconceptions  as  to  Utility.  Nature  of  Law  resumed  and 
illustrated.  Impropriety  of  the  term  *  law '  as  applied  to  the  ope- 
rations of  Nature 2*71 

Whewell.  Opposing  schemes  of  Morality.  Proposal  to  reconcile 
them.  There  are  some  actions  Universally  approved.  A  Supreme 
Rule  of  Right  to  be  arrived  at  by  combining  partial  rules :  these 
are  obtained  from  the  nature  of  our  faculties.  The  rule  of  Speech 
is  Truth ;  Property  supposes  Justice ;  the  Affections  indicate  Hu- 
manity. It  is  a  self-evident  maxim  that  the  Lower  parts  of  our 
nature  are  governed  by  the  Higher.  Classification  of  Springs  of 
Action.  Disinterestedness.  Classific<ition  of  Moral  Rules.  Divi- 
sion of  Rights 278 

Ferrier.  Question  of  the  Moral  Sense :  errors  on  both  sides.  Sym- 
pathy passes  beyond  feeling,  and  takes  in  Thought  or  self-con- 
sciousness. Happiness  has  two  ends — the  maintenance  of  man's 
Rational  nature,  and  Pleasure 284 

Mansel.  The  conceptions  of  Right  and  Wrong  are  sui  generis.  The 
moral  law  can  have  no  authority  unless  emanating  from  a  lawgiver. 
The  Standard  is  the  moral  nature,  and  not  the  arbitrary  will,  of 
God 28i 

John  Stuart  Mill,  Explanation  of  what  Utilitarianism  consists  in. 
Reply  to  objections  against  setting  up  Happiness  as  the  Ethical 
end.  Ultimate  Sanction  of  the  principle  of  Utility :  the  External 
and  Internal  sanctions ;  Conscience  how  made  up.  The  sort  of 
Proof  that  Utility  is  susceptible  of: — the  evidence  that  happiness 
is  desirable,  is  that  men  desire  it ;  it  is  consistent  with  Utility  that 
virtue  should  be  desired  for  itself.  Connexion  between  Justice  and 
Utility : — ^meanings  of  Justice ;  essentially  grounded  in  Law ;  the 


CONTENTS.  13 

PAOB 

sentiments  that  support  Justice,  are  Self-defence,  and  Sympathy ; 
Justice  owes  its  paramount  character  to  the  essential  of  Security ; 
there  are  no  immutable  maxims  of  Justice 288 

Bailey.  Facts  of  the  human  constitution  that  give  origin  to  moral 
phenomena  : — susceptibility  to  pleasure  and  pain,  and  to  the  causes 
of  them  ;  reciprocation  of  these  ;  our  expecting  reciprocation  from 
others  ;  sympathy.  Consideration  of  our  feelings  in  regard  to 
actions  done  to  us  by  others.  Our  feelings  as  spectators  of  actions 
done  to  others  by  others.  Actions  done  to  ourselves  by  others. 
The  different  cases  combine  to  modify  each  other.  Explanation 
of  the  discrepancies  of  the  moral  sentiment  in  different  communi- 
ties. The  consequences  of  actions  the  only  criterion  for  rectifying 
the  diversities.  Objections  to  the  happiness-test.  The  term  Utility 
unsuitable.  Disputes  as  to  the  origin  of  moral  sentiment  in  Rea- 
son or  in  a  Moral  Sense  30C 

Spencer.  Happiness  the  ultimate,  but  not  the  proximate,  end. 
Moral  Science  a  deduction  from  the  laws  of  life  and  the  conditions 
of  existence.  There  have  been,  and  still  are,  developing  in  the 
race,  certain  fundamental  Moral  Intuitions.  The  Expediency- 
Morality  is  transitional.  Reference  to  the  general  theory  of  Evo- 
lution     307 

Kant.  Distinguishes  between  the  empirical  and  the  rational  mode 
of  treating  Ethics.  Nothing  properly  good,  except  Will.  Sub- 
jection of  Will  to  Reason.  An  action  done  from  natural  inclina- 
tion is  worthless  morally.  Duty  is  respect  for  Law ;  conformity 
to  Law  is  the  one  principle  of  volition.  Moral  Law  not  ascertain- 
able empirically,  it  must  originate  a  priori  in  pure  (practical)  Rea- 
son. The  Hypothetical  and  Categorical  Imperatives.  Imperative 
of  Prudence.  Imperative  of  Morality.  The  formula  of  Morality. 
The  ends  of  Morality.  The  Rational  nature  of  man  is  an  end-in- 
itself.  The  Will  the  source  of  its  own  laws — the  Autonomy  of  the 
Will.  The  Reason  of  Ends.  Morality  alone  has  intrinsic  Worth 
or  Dignity.  Principles  founded  on  the  Heteronomy  of  the  Will — 
Happiness,  Perfection.  Duty  legitimized  by  the  conception  of  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will,  properly  understood.  Postulates  of  the  pure 
Practical  Reason — Freedom,  Immortality,  God.     Summary 311 

Cousin.  Analysis  of  the  sentiments  aroused  in  us  by  human  actions. 
The  Moral  Sentiment  made  up  of  a  variety  of  moral  judgments — 
Good  and  Evil,  Obligation,  Liberty,  Merit  and  Demerit.  Virtue 
brings  Happiness.  Moral  Satisfaction  and  Remorse.  The  Law  ot 
Duty  is  conformity  to  Reason.  The  characteristic  of  Reason  is 
Universality.  Classification  of  Duties  : — Duties  to  Self ;  to  Others 
— Truth,  Justice,  Charity.    Application  to  Politics 326 


14  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

JouFFROY.  Each  creature  has  a  special  nature,  and  a  special  end. 
Man  has  certain  primary  passions  to  be  satisfied.  Secondary  pas- 
sions— the  Useful,  the  Good,  •Happiness.  All  the  faculties  con- 
trolled by  the  Reason.  The  End  of  Interest.  End  of  Universal 
Order.  Morality  the  expression  of  divine  thought ;  identified  with 
the  beautiful  and  the  true.  The  moral  law  and  self-interest  coin- 
cide. Boundaries  of  the  three  states — Passion,  Egoism,  Moral 
determination 832 


ETHICS. 

PART    I. 

THE   THEOEY   OF   ETHICS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PRELIMINARY  VIEW   OF   ETHICAL    QUESTIONS. 

As  a  preface  to  the  account  of  the  Ethical  Systems,  and  a 
principle  of  arrangement,  for  the  better  comparing  of  them, 
we  shall  review  in  order  the  questions  that  arise  in  the  dis- 
cussion. 

I.  First  of  all  is  the  question  as  to  the  Ethical  Standard. 
"What,  in  the  last  resort,  is  the  test,  criterion,  umpire,  appeal, 
or  Standard,  in  determining  Right  and  \Vrong  ?  In  the  con- 
crete language  of  Palej,  Why  am  I  obliged  to  keep  my  word  ? 
The  answer  to  this  is  the  Theory  of  Right  and  Wrong,  the 
essential  part  of  every  Ethical  System. 

We  may  quote  the  leading  answers,  as  both  explaining 
and  summarizing  the  chief  question  of  Ethics,  and  more  espe- 
cially of  Modern  Ethics. 

1.  It  is  alleged  that  the  arbitrary  Will  of  the  Deity,  as 
expressed  in  the  Bible,  is  the  ultimate  standard.  On  this 
view  anything  thus  commanded  is  right,  whatever  be  its  conse- 
quences, or  however  it  may  clash  with  our  sentiments  and 
reasonings. 

2.  It  was  maintained  by  Hobbes,  that  the  Sovereign, 
acting  under  his  responsibility  to  God,  is  the  sole  arbiter  of 
Right  and   Wrong.     As   regards    Obligatory   Morality,   this 


16  PEELIMINARY  VIEW  OF  ETHICAL   QUESTIONS. 

seems  at  first  sight  an  identical  proposition ;  morality  is  an- 
other name  for  law  and  sovereignty.  In  the  view  of  Hobbes, 
however,  the  sovereign  should  be  a  single  person,  of  absolute 
authority,  humanly  irresponsible,  and  irremoveable  ;  a  type  of 
sovereignty  repudiated  by  civilized  nations. 

3.  It  has  been  held,  in  various  phraseology,  that  a  certain 
fitness,  suitability,  or  propriety  in  actions,  as  determined  by  our 
Understanding  or  Reason,  is  the  ultimate  test.  When  a  man 
keeps  his  word,  there  is  a  certain  congruity  or  consistency 
between  the  action  and  the  occasion,  between  the  making  of 
a  promise  and  its  fulfilment ;  and  wherever  such  congruity 
is  discernible,  the  action  is  right.  This  is  the  view  of  Cud- 
worth,  Clarke,  and  Price.  It  may  be  called  the  Intellectual 
or  Rational  theory. 

A  special  and  more  abstract  form  of  the  same  theory  is 
presented  in  the  dictum  of  Kant — '  act  in  such  a  way  that 
your  conduct  might  be  a  law  to  all  beings.' 

4.  It  is  contended,  that  the  human  mind  possesses  an  in- 
tuition or  instinct,  whereby  we  feel  or  discern  at  once  the 
right  from  the  wrong  ;  a  view  termed  the  doctrine  of  the 
Moral  Sense,  or  Moral  Sentiment.  Besides  being  sup- 
ported by  numerous  theorizers  in  Ethics,  this  is  the  prevailing 
and  popular  doctrine  ;  it  underlies  most  of  the  language  of 
moral  suasion.  The  difficulties  attending  the  stricter  inter- 
pretation of  it  have  led  to  various  modes  of  qualifying  and 
explaining  it,  as  will  afterwards  appear.  Shaftesbury  and 
Hutcheson  are  more  especially  identified  with  the  enunciation 
of  this  doctrine  in  its  modern  aspect. 

5.  It  was  put  forth  by  Mandeville  that  Self-interest  is  the 
only  test  of  moral  rightness.  Self-preservation  is  the  first 
law  of  being ;  and  even  when  we  are  labouring  for  the  good  of 
others,  we  are  still  having  regard  to  our  own  interest. 

6.  The  theory  called  Utility,  and  Utilitarianism,  supposes 
that  the  well-being  or  happiness  of  mankind  is  the  sole  end, 
and  ultimate  standard  of  morality.  The  agent  takes  account 
both  of  his  own  happiness  and  of  the  happiness  of  others, 
subordinating,  on  proper  occasions,  the  first  to  the  second. 
This  theory  is  definite  in  its  opposition  to  all  the  others,  but 
admits  of  considerable  latitude  of  view  within  itself.  Stoicism 
and  Epicureanism  are  both  included  in  its  compass. 

The  two  last-named  theories — Self-interest,  and  Utility  or 
the  Common  Well-Being,  have  exclusive  regard  to  the  con- 
sequences of  actions  ;  the  others  assig^n  to  consequences  a 
Babordinate  position.      The  terms  External  and  Dependent 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  QUESTIONS.  17 

are  also  used  to  express  the  reference  to  Happiness  as  the 
end :  Internal  and  Independent  are  the  contrasting  epithets. 

11.  Ethical  Theory  embraces  certain  questions  of  pure 
Psychology. 

1.  The  Psychological  nature  of  Conscience,  the  Moral 
Sense,  or  by  whatever  name  we  designate  the  faculty  of  dis- 
tinguishing right  and  wrong,  together  with  the  motive  power 
to  follow  the  one  and  eschew  the  other.  That  such  a  faculty 
exists  is  admitted.  The  question  is,  what  is  its  place  and 
origin  in  the  mind  ? 

On  the  one  side,  Conscience  is  held  to  be  a  unique  and 
ultimate  power  of  the  mind,  like  the  feeling  of  Resistance,  the 
sense  of  Taste,  or  the  consciousness  of  Agreement.  On  the 
other  side,  Conscience  is  viewed  as  a  growth  or  derivation 
from  other  recognized  properties  of  the  mind.  The  Theory  of 
the  Standard  (4)  called  the  doctrine  of  the  Moral  Sense,  pro- 
ceeds upon  the  first  view ;  on  that  theory,  the  Standard  and 
the  Faculty  make  properly  but  one  question.  All  other 
theories  are  more  or  less  compatible  with  the  composite  or 
derivative  nature  of  Conscience ;  the  supporters  of  Utility,  in 
particular,  adopt  this  alternative. 

2.  A  second  Psychological  question,  regarded  by  many 
(notably  by  Kant)  as  vilally  implicated  in  Moral  Obligation, 
is  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  The  history  of  opinion  on  this 
subject  has  been  in  great  part  already  given. 

3.  Thirdly,  It  has  been  debated,  on  Psychological  grounds, 
whether  our  Benevolent  ac<^ions  (which  all  admit)  are  ulti- 
mately modes  of  self-regard,  or  whether  there  be,  in  the 
human  mind,  a  source  of  pui*ely  Disinterested  conduct.  The 
first  view,  or  the  relerence  of  benevolence  to  Self,  admits 
of  degrees  and  varieties  of  statement. 

(1)  It  may  be  held  that  in  peri'oi*ming  good  actions,  we 
expect  and  obtain  an  immediate  reward  fully  equivalent 
to  the  sacrifice  made.  Occasionally  we  are  rewarded  in 
kind  ;  but  the  reward  most  usually  forthcoming  (according  to 
Mandeville),  is  praise  or  flattery,  to  which  the  human  mind 
is  acutely  sensitive. 

(2)  Our  constitution  may  be  such  that  we  are  pained  by 
the  sight  of  an  object  in  distress,  and  give  assistance,  to 
relieve  ourselves  of  the  pain.  This  was  the  view  of  Hobbes  ; 
and  it  is  also  admitted  by  Mandeville  as  a  secondary  motive. 

(3)  We  may  be  so  formed  as  to  derive  enjoyment  from 
the  performance  of  acts  of  kindness,  in  the  same  immediate 
way  that  we  are  gratified  by  warmth,  flowers,  or  music  ;  we 


18  PRELIMINARY  VIEW  OF  ETHICAL  QUESTIONS. 

should  thus  be  moved  to  benevolence  by  an  intrinsic  pleasure, 
and  not  by  extraneous  consequences. 

Bentham  speaks  of  the  pleasui^es  aud  the  pains  of  Benevo- 
lence, meaning  that  we  derive  pleasure  from  causing  pleasure 
to  others,  and  pain  from  the  sight  of  pain  in  others. 

(4)  It  may  be  affirmed  that,  although  we  have  not  by 
nature  any  purely  disinterested  impulses,  these  are  generated 
in  us  by  associations  and  habits,  in  a  manner  similar  to  the 
conversion  of  means  into  final  ends,  as  in  the  case  of  money. 
This  is  the  view  propounded  by  James  Mill,  and  by  Mackintosh. 

Allowance  being  made  for  a  certain  amount  of  fact  in 
these  various  modes  of  connecting  Benevolence  with  self,  it  is 
still  maintained  in  the  present  work,  as  by  Butler,  Hume, 
Adam  Smith,  and  others,  that  human  beings  are  (although 
very  unequally)  endowed  with  a  prompting  to  relieve  the 
pains  and  add  to  the  pleasures  of  others,  irrespective  of  all 
self-regarding  considerations ;  and  that  such  prompting  is 
not  a  product  of  associations  with  self. 

In  the  ancient  world,  purely  disinterested  conduct  was 
abundantly  manifested  in  practice,  although  not  made  promi- 
nent in  Ethical  Theory.  The  enumeration  of  the  Cardinal 
Virtues  does  not  expressly  contain  Benevolence  ;  but  under 
Courage,  Self-sacrifice  was  implied.  Patriotic  Self-devotion, 
Love,  and  Friendship  were  virtues  highly  cultivated.  In 
Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  there  is  a  recognition  of 
general  Benevolence. 

The  two  heads  now  sketched — The  Standard  and  the 
Psychology  of  our  Moral  nature — almost  entirely  exhaust 
modern  Ethics.  Smith,  Stewart,  and  Mackintosh  agree  in 
laying  down  as  the  points  in  dispute  these  two  ; — First,  What 
does  virtue  consist  in  ?  Secondly,  What  is  the  power  or 
faculty  of  the  mind  that  discovers  and  enforces  it  ? 

These  two  positions,  however,  are  inadequate  as  regards 
Ajicient  Ethics.  For  remedying  the  deficiency,  and  for  bring- 
ing to  light  matters  necessary  to  the  completeness  of  an 
Ethical  survey,  we  add  the  following  heads  : — 

HI.  The  Theory  of  what  constitutes  the  Supreme  End  of 
Life,  the  Bonum  or  the  Summum  Bonum.  The  question  as  to 
the  highest  End  has  divided  the  Ethical  Schools,  both  ancient 
and  modern.  It  was  the  point  at  issue  between  the  Stoics 
and  the  Epicureans.  That  Happiness  is  not  the  highest  end 
has  been  averred,  in  modern  times,  by  Butler  and  others :  the 
opposite  position  is  held  by  the  supporters  of  Utility.  What 
may  be  called  the  severe  and  ascetic  systems  (theoretically) 


CLASSIFIC4TT0N   OF  DUTIES.  19 

refuse  to  sanction  any  pursnit  of  happiness  or  pleasure,  except 
through  virtue,  or  duty  to  others.  The  view  practically  pro- 
ceeded upon,  now  and  in  most  ages,  is  that  virtue  discharges 
a  man's  obligations  to  his  fellows,  which  being  accomplished, 
he  is  then  at  liberty  to  seek  what  pleases  himself.  (For  the 
application  of  the  laws  of  mind  to  the  theory  of  Happiness, 
see  Appendix  C.) 

IV.-TJie  Classification  of  Dqties  is  characteristic  of  differ- 
ent systems  and  different  authors.  The  oldest  scheme  is  the 
Four  Cardinal  Virtues  —  Prudence,  Courage,  Temperance, 
Justice.  The  modern  Christian  moralists  usually  adopt  the 
division — Duties  to  God,  to  Others,  to  Self. 

Moreover,  there  are  differences  in  the  substance  of  Morality 
itself,  or  the  things  actually  imposed.  The  code  under  Chris- 
tianity has  varied  both  from  Judaism  and  from  Paganism. 

y.-The  relationship  of  Ethics  to  Politics  is  close,  while 
the  points  of  difference  of  the  two  are  also  of  great  import- 
ance. In  Plato  the  two  subjects  were  inseparable  ;  and  in 
Aristotle,  they  were  blended  to  excess.  Hobbes  also  joined 
Ethics  and  Politics  in  one  system.     (See  Chap,  ii.,  §  3.) 

VI.- The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Theology  is  variously  repre- 
sented in  modern  systems.  The  Fathers  and  the  Schoolmen 
accepted  the  authority  of  the  Bible  chiefly  on  tradition,  and 
did  not  venture  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  substance  of  the 
revelation.  They,  therefore,  rested  their  Ethics  exclusively 
on  the  Bible ;  or,  at  most,  ventured  upon  giving  some  mere 
supplement  of  its  precepts. 

Others,  in  more  modern  times,  have  considered  that  the 
moral  character  of  a  revelation  enters  into  the  evidence  in  its 
favour ;  whence,  morality  must  be  considered  as  independent, 
and  exclusively  human,  in  its  origin.  It  would  be  reasoning 
in  a  circle  to  derive  the  mural  law  from  the  bible,  and  then  to 
prove  the  bible  from  the  moral  law. 

Religion  superadds  its  own  sanction  to  the  moral  duties, 
so  far  as  adopted  by  it ;  laying  especial  stress  upon  select  pre- 
cepts. It  likewise  calls  into  being  a  distinct  code  of  duties, 
the  religious  duties  strictly  so  called;  wbich  have  no  force 
except  with  believers.  The  '  duties  to  God,'  in  the  modem 
classification,  are  religious,  as  distinguished  from  moral 
duties. 


20  THE   ETHICAL   STANDARD. 

CHAPTER    11. 
THE  ETHICAL  STANDARD. 

1.  Ethics,  or  Morality,  is  a  department  of  Practice ; 
and,  as  with  other  practical  departments,  is  defined  by 
its  End. 

Ethics  is  not  mere  knowledge  or  speculation,  like  the 
sciences  of  Astronomy,  Physiology,  or  Psychology  ;  it  is 
knowledge  applied  to  practice,  or  useful  ends,  like  Navigation, 
Medicine,  or  Politics.  Every  practical  subject  has  some  end 
to  be  served,  the  statement  of  which  is  its  definition  in  the 
first  instance.  Navigation  is  the  applying  of  difierent  kinds 
of  knowledge,  and  of  a  variety  of  devices,  to  the  end  of  sailing 
the  seas. 

2.  The  Ethical  End  is  a  certain  portion  of  the  welfare 
of  human  beings  living  together  in  society,  realized  through 
rules  of  conduct  duly  enforced. 

The  obvious  intention  of  morality  is  the  good  of  mankind. 
The  precepts — do  not  steal,  do  not  kill,  fulfil  agreements, 
speak  truth — whatever  other  reasons  may  be  assigned  for  them, 
have  a  direct  tendency  to  prevent  great  evils  that  might  other- 
wise arise  in  the  intercourse  of  human  beings. 

Farther,  the  good  aimed  at  by  Ethics  is  attained  by  rules 
of  acting,  on  the  part 'of  one  human  being  to  another;  and, 
inasmuch  as  these  rules  often  run  counter  to  the  tendencies 
of  the  individual  mind,  it  is  requisite  to  provide  adequate  iri' 
duceraents  to  comply  with  them. 

The  Ethical  End  is  what  is  otherwise  called  the  Standard, 
test,  or  criterion,  of  Right  and  Wrong.  The  leading  contro- 
versy of  Morals  is  centered  in  this  point. 

3.  The  Rules  of  Ethics,  termed  also  Law,  Laws,  the 
Moral  Law,  are  of  two  kinds  : — 

The  first  are  rules  imposed  under  a  Penalty  for  ne- 
glect, or  violation.  The  penalty  is  termed  Punishment ; 
the  imposing  party  is  named  Government,  or  Authority ; 
and  the  rules  so  imposed  and  enforced,  are  called  Laws 
proper,  Morality  proper.  Obligatory  Morality,  Duty. 


MORAL  RULES  ENFORCED  BY  PENALTIES.       21 

4.  The  second  are  rules  whose  only  external  support  is 
Reivards ;  constituting  Optional  Morality,  Merit,  Virtue, 
or  Nobleness. 

Moral  duties  are  a  set  of  rules,  precepts,  or  prescriptions, 
for  the  direction  of  human  conduct  in  a  certain  sphere  or  pro- 
vince. These  rules  are  enforced  by  two  kinds  of  motives, 
requiring  to  be  kept  distinct. 

I.-One  class  of  rules  are  made  compulsory  by  the  infliction 
of  pain,  in  the  case  of  violation  or  neglect.  The  pain  so  in- 
flicted is  termed  a  Penalty,  or  Punishment ;  it  is  one  of  the 
most  familiar  experiences  of  all  human  beings  living  in 
society. 

The  Institution  that  issues  Rules  of  this  class,  and  inflicts 
punishment  when  they  are  not  complied  with,  is  termed  Go- 
vernment, or  Authority ;  all  its  rules  are  authoritative,  or 
obligatory ;  they  are  Laws  strictly  so  called,  Laws  proper. 
Punishment,  Government,  Authority,  Superiority,  Obligation, 
Law,  Duty, — define  each  other ;  they  are  all  difierent  modes 
of  regarding  the  same  fact. 

Morality  is  thus  in  every  respect  analagous  to  Civil  Go- 
vernment, or  the  Law  of  the  Land.  Nay,  farther,  it  squares, 
to  a  very  great  extent,  with  Political  Authority.  The  points 
where  the  two  coincide,  and  those  where  they  do  not  coincide, 
may  be  briefly  stated  : — 

(1)  All  the  most  essential  parts  of  Morality  are  adopted 
and  carried  out  by  the  Law  of  the  Land.  The  rules  for  pro- 
tecting person  and  property,  for  fulfilling  contracts,  for  per- 
forming reciprocal  duties,  are  rules  or  laws  of  the  State  ;  and 
are  enforced  by  the  State,  through  its  own  machinery.  The 
penalties  inflicted  by  public  authority  constitute  what  is  called 
the  Political  Sanction  ;  they  are  the  most  severe,  and  the  most 
strictly  and  dispassionately  administered,  of  all  penalties. 

(2)  There  are  certain  Moral  duties  enforced,  not  by 
public  and  official  authority,  but  by  the  members  of  the  com- 
munity in  their  private  capacity.  These  are  sometimes  called 
the  Laws  of  Honour,  because  they  are  punished  by  withdraw- 
ing from  the  violator  the  honour  or  esteem  of  his  fellow- 
citizens.  Courage,  Prudence  as  regards  self,  Chastity,  Ortho- 
doxy of  opinion,  a  certain  conformity  in  Tastes  and  Usages, — 
are  all  prescribed  by  the  mass  of  each  community,  to  a  greater 
or  less  extent,  and  are  insisted  on  under  penalty  of  social  dis- 
grace and  excommunication.  This  is  the  Social  or  the  Popu- 
lar Sanction.     The  department  so  marked   out,  being  distinct 


22  THE  ETHICAL  STANDARD. 

from   the    Political    sphere,    is    called,   by    Austin,    Positive 
Morality,  or  Morality  proper. 

Public  opinion  also  chimes  in  with  the  Law,  and  adds  its 
own  sanction  to  the  legal  penalties  for  offences  :  unless  the 
law  happens  to  be  in  conflict  with  the  popular  sentiment. 
Criminals,  condemned  by  the  law,  are  additionally  punished 
by  social  disgrace. 

(3)  The  Law  of  the  Land  contains  many  enactments,  be- 
sides the  Moral  Code  and  the  machinery  for  executing  it. 
The  Province  of  government  passes  beyond  the  properly  pro- 
tective function,  and  includes  many  institutions  of  public  con- 
venience, which  are  not  identified  with  right  and  wrong. 
The  defence  from  external  enemies  ;  the  erection  of  works  of 
public  utility  ;  the  promotion  of  social  improvements, — are 
all  within  the  domain  of  the  public  authority.* 

IL-The  second  class  of  Rules  are  supported,  not  by  penal- 
ties, but  by  Rewards.  Society,  instead  of  punishing  men  for 
not  being  charitable  or  benevolent,  praises  and  otherwise 
rewards  them,  when  they  are  so.  Hence,  although  Morality 
inculcates  benevolence,  this  is  not  a  Law  proper,  it  is  not 
obligatory,  authoritative,  or  binding ;  it  is  purely  voluntary, 
and  is  termed  merit,  virtuous  and  noble  conduct. 

In  this  department,  the  members  of  the  community,  in 
their  unofficial  capacity,  are  the  chief  agents  and  administra- 
tors. The  Law  of  the  Land  occupies  itself  with  the  enforce- 
ment of  its  own  obligatory  rules,  having  at  its  command  a 
perfect  machinery   of  punishment.      Private  individuals  ad- 

*  Duties  strictly  so  called,  the  department  of  obligatory  morality,  en- 
forced by  punishment,  may  be  exemplified  in  the  following  classified 
summary : — 

Under  the  Legal  Sanction,  are  included  ;  (A)  Forbearance  from 
(specified)  injuries;  as  («)  Intentional  injury— crimes,  (b)  Injury  not  inten- 
tional— wrongs,  repaired  by  Damages  or  Compensation.  (B)  The  ren- 
dering of  services  ;  («)  Fulfilling  contracts  or  agreements  ;  {h)  Recipro- 
cating anterior  services  rendered,  though  not  requested,  as  in  filial  duty  ; 
(c)  Cases  of  extreme  or  superior  need,  as  parental  duty,  relief  of  destitution. 

Under  the  Popular  Sanction  are  created  duties  on  such  points  as  the 
following: — (I)  The  Etiquette  of  small  societies  or  coteries.  (2)  Reli- 
gious orthodoxy  ;  Sabbath  observance.  (3)  Unchastity ;  violations  of  the 
etiquette  of  the  sexes,  Immodesty,  and  whatever  endangers  chastity, 
especially  in  women.  (4)  Duties  of  parents  to  children,  and  of  children 
to  parents,  beyond  the  requirements  of  the  law,  (o)  Suicide:  when  only 
attempted,  the  individual  is  punished,  when  carried  out,  the  relatives. 
(6)  Drunkenness,  and  neglect  of  the  means  of  self-support.  (7)  Gross 
Inhumanity.  In  all  these  cases  the  sanction,  or  punishment,  is  social ; 
and  is  either  mere  disapprobation  or  dislike,  not  issuing  in  overt  acts,  ot 
exclusion  from  fellowship  and  the  good  offices  consequent  thereoa. 


MORAL  RULES  SUPPORTED  BY   REWARDS.  23 

minister  praise,  honour,  esteem,  approbation,  and  reward.  In 
a  few  instances,  the  Government  dispenses  rewards,  as  in 
the  bestowal  of  office,  rank,  titles,  and  pensions,  but  this 
function  is  exceptional  and  limited. 

The  conduct  rewarded  by  Society  is  chiefly  resolvable  into 
Beneficence.  Whoever  is  moved  to  incur  sacrifices,  or  to  go 
through  labours,  for  the  good  of  others,  is  the  object,  not 
merely  of  gratitude  from  the  persons  benefited,  but  of  appro- 
bation from  society  at  large. 

Any  remarkable  strictness  or  fidelity  in  the  discharge  of 
duties  properly  so  called,  receives  general  esteem.  Even  in 
matters  merely  ceremonial,  if  importance  be  attached  to 
them,  sedulous  and  exact  compliance,  being  the  distinction  of 
the  few,  will  earn  the  approbation  of  the  many.* 

5.  The  Ethical  End,  or  Morality,  as  it  Juts  been,  is 
founded  partly  on  Well-being,  or  Utility :  and  partly  on 
Sentiment. 

The  portions  of  Morality,  having  in  view  the  prevention  of 
human  misery  and  the  promotion  of  human  happiness,  are 
known  and  obvious.  They  are  not  the  whole  of  Morality  as 
it  has  been. 

♦  Optional  Morality,  the  Morality  of  Reward,  is  exempHfied  as  fol- 

(A)  A  liberal  performance  of  duties  properly  so  called,  (a)  The 
support  of  aged  parents ;  this,  though  to  a  certain  extent  a  legal  duty, 
is  still  more  a  \nrtue,  being  stimulated  by  the  approbation  of  one's  fel- 
lows. The  performance  of  the  family  duties  generally  is  the  subject  of 
commendation,  (b)  The  payment  of  debts  that  cannot  be  legally  re- 
covered, as  in  the  case  of  bankrupts  after  receiving  their  discharge. 

These  examples  typify  cases  (1)  where  no  definite  law  is  laid  down, 
or  where  the  law  is  content  with  a  minimum;  and  (2)  where  the  law  is 
restrained  by  its  rules  of  evidence  or  procedure.  Society,  in  such  cases, 
steps  in  and'supplies  a  motive  in  the  shape  of  reward. 

(B)  Pure  Virtue,  or  Beneficence  ;  all  actions  for  the  benefit  of  others 
without  stipulation,  and  without  reward  ;  relief  of  distress,  promotion  cf 
the  good  of  individuals  or  of  society  at  large.  The  highest  honours  of 
Bociety  are  called  into  exercise  by  the  highest  services. 

Bentham's  principle  of  the  claims  of  superior  need  cannot  be  fully 
carried  out,  (although  he  conceives  it  might,  in  some  cases),  by  either  the 
legal  or  the  popular  sanction.  Thus,  the  act  of  the  good  Samaritan,  the 
rescue  of  a  ship's  crew  from  drowning,  could  not  be  exacted  ;  the  law  oan- 
n  't  require  heroism.  It  is  of  importance  to  remark,  that  although  Duty 
and  Nobleness,  Punishment  and  Reward,  are  in  their  extremes  unmis- 
takably contrasted,  yet  there  may  be  a  margin  of  doubt  or  ambiguity 
(like  the  passing  of  day  into  night).  Thus,  expressed  approbation, 
generally  speaking,  belongs  to  Reward;  yet,  if  it  has  become  a  thing  of 
course,  the  withholding  of  it  operates  as  a  Punishment  or  a  Penalty. 


^^  THE  ETHICAL  STANDAED. 

Sentiment,  caprice,  arbitrary  liking  or  disliking,  », 
names  for  states  of  feeling  that  do  not  necessarily  arise  froi 
their  objects,  but  may  be  joined  or  disjoined  by  educatioi 
cnstom,  or  the  power  of  the  will.  The  revulsion  of  minu 
on  the  part  of  the  Jews,  against  eating  the  pig,  and  on  ou^ 
own  part,  as  regards  horse  flesh,  is  not  a  primitive  or  natura 
sensibihty,  like  the  pain  of  hunger,  or  of  cold,  or  of  a  musica 
discord;  it  is  purely  artificial;  custom  has  made  it,  anc 
could  unmake  it.  The  feeling  of  fatigue  from  overwork  is 
natural ;  the  repugnance  of  caste  to  manual  labour  is  facti- 
tious.  The  dignity  attached  to  the  military  profession,  anc 
the  indignity  of  the  office  of  public  executioner,  are  capricious 
arbitrary,  and  sentimental.  Our  prospective  regard  to  tU 
comforts  of  our  declining  years  points  to  a  real  interest ;  oui 
feelings  as  to  the  disposal  of  the  body  after  death  are  purely 
factitious  and  sentimental.  Such  feelings  are  of  the  things 
in  our  own  power ;  and  the  grand  mistake  of  the  Stoics  was 
their  viewing  all  good  and  evil  whatever  in  the  same  light. 

It  is  an  essential  part  of  human  liberty,  to  permit  each 
person  to  form  and  to  indulge  these  sentiments  or  caprices : 
although  a  good  education  should  control  them  with  a  view 
to  our  happiness  on  the  whole.  But,  when  any  individual 
hkmg  or  fancy  of  this  description  is  imposed  as  a  law  upon 
the  entire  community,  it  is  a  perversion  and  abuse  of  power, 
a  confounding  of  the  Ethical  end  by  foreign  admixtures. 
Thus,  to  enjoin  authoritatively  one  mode  of  sepulture,  punish* 
mg  all  deviations  from  that,  could  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  preservation  of  the  order  of  society.  In  such  a  matter, 
the  interference  of  the  state  in  modern  times,  has  regard  to 
the  detection  of  crime  in  the  matter  of  life  and  death,  and  to 
the  evils  arising  from  the  putrescence  of  the  dead. 

6.  The  Ethical  End,  although  properly  confined  to 
Utility,  is  subject  to  still  farther  limitations,  according  to 
the  view  taken  of  the  Province  of  Moral  Government^  or 
Authorit}^ 

Although  nothing  should  be  made  morally  obligatory  but 
what  is  generally  useful,  the  converse  does  not  hold ;  many 
kinds  of  conduct  are  generally  useful,  but  not  morally  obliga- 
tory. A  certain  amount  of  bodily  exercise  in  the  open  air 
every  day  would  be  generally  useful ;  but  neither  the  law  of 
the  land  nor  public  opinion  compels  it.  Good  roads  are  works 
of  great  utility ;  it  is  not  every  one's  duty  to  make  them. 

The  machinery  of  coercion  is  not  brought  to  bear  upon 


DIFFERENCE    OF   BEING   AND   WELL-BEING.  25 

every  conceivable  utility.      It  is  principally  reserved,   when 
not  abused,  for  a  select  class  of  utilities. 

Some  utilities  are  indispensable  to  the  very  existence  of 
men  in  society.  The  primary  moral  duties  must  be  observed 
to  some  degree,  if  men  are  to  live  together  as  men,  and  not  to 
roam  at  large  as  beasts.  The  interests  of  Security  are  the 
first  and  most  pressing  concern  of  human  society.  Whatever 
relates  to  this  has  a  surpassing  importance.  Security  is 
contrasted  with  Improvement ;  what  relates  to  Security  is 
declared  to  be  Right ;  what  relates  to  Improvement  is  said  to 
be  Expedient ;  both  are  forms  of  Utility,  but  the  one  is  press- 
ing and  indispensable,  the  other  is  optional.  The  same  differ- 
ence is  expressed  by  the  contrasts — Being  and  Well-being ; 
Existence  and  Prosperous  Existence  ;  Fundamentals  or  Essen- 
tials and  Circumstantials.  That  the  highway  robber  should 
be  punished  is  a  part  of  Being  ;  that  the  highways  should  be  in 
good  repair,  is  a  part  of  Well-being.  That  Justice  should  be 
done  is  Existence ;  that  farmers  and  traders  should  give  in  to 
government  the  statistics  of  their  occupation,  is  a  means  to 
Prosperous  Existence.* 

It  is  proper  to  advert  to  one  sj)ecific  influence  in  moral  enact- 
ments, serving  to  disguise  the  Ethical  end,  and  to  widen  the  dis- 
tinction between  moraHty  as  it  has  been,  and  morality  as  it  ought 
to  be.  The  enforcing  of  legal  and  moral  enactments  demands  a 
'power  of  coercion,  to  be  lodged  in  the  hands  of  certain  persons ; 
the  possession  of  which  is  a  temptation  to  exceed  the  strict 
exigencies  of  public  safety,  or  the  common  welfare.  Probably 
many  of  the  whims,  fancies,  ceremonies,  Kkings  and  antipathies, 
that  have  found  their  way  into  the  moral  codes  of  nations,  have 
arisen  from  the  arbitrary  disposition  of  certain  individuals  happen- 
ing to  be  in  authority  at  particular  junctures.  Even  the  general 
community,  acting  in  a  spontaneous  manner,  imposes  needless 
restraints  upon  itself,  delighting  more  in  the  exercise  of  power, 
than  in  the  freedom  of  individual  action. 

*  The  conditions  that  regulate  the  authoritative  enforcement  of 
actions,  are  exhaustively  p^iven  in  works  on  Jurisprudence,  but  they  do 
not  all  concern  Ethical  Theory.  The  expedience  of  imposing  a  rule 
depends  on  the  importance  of  the  ohji  ct  compared  with  the  cost  of  the 
machinery.  A  certain  line  of  conduct  may  be  highly  beneficial,  hut  may 
not  he  a  fit  case  for  coercion.  For  example,  the  law  can  enforce  only  a 
niimmum  of  service  :  now,  if  the  case  be  such  that  a  minimum  is  useless, 
as  in  helping  a  ship  in  distress,  or  in  supporting  aged  parents,  it  is  much 
better  to  leave  the  case  to  voluntary  impulses,  seconded  by  approbation 
or  reward.  Again,  an  oflfpnce  punished  by  law  must  be,  in  its  nature, 
definable ;  which  makes  a  difiiculty  in  such  cases  as  insult,  and  defamation, 
and  many  species  of  fraud.  Farth.  r,  the  ofience  must  be  easy  of  detection, 
so  that  the  vast  majority  of  ofienders  may  not  escape.  This  limits  the 
action  of  the  law  in  unchastity. 
2 


26  THE   ETHICAL   STANDARD. 

7.  Morality,  in  its  essential  parts,  is  '  Eternal  and  Im* 
mutable ;'  in  other  parts,  it  varies  with  Cnstom. 

(1)  The  rules  for  protecting  one  man  from  another,  for 
enforcing  justice,  and  the  observance  of  contracts,  are  essen- 
tial and  fundamental,  and  may  be  styled  '  Eternal  and  Im- 
mutable.' The  ends  to  be  served  require  these  rules  ;  no 
caprice  of  custom  could  change  them  without  sacrificing  those 
ends.  They  are  to  society  what  food  is  to  individual  life,  or 
sexual  intercourse  and  mother's  care  to  the  continuance  of  the 
race.  The  primary  moralities  could  not  be  exchanged  for  rules 
enacting  murder,  pillage,  injustice,  unveracity,  repudiation  of 
engagements;  because  under  these  rules,  human  society  would 
fall  to  pieces. 

(2)  The  manner  of  carrying  into  effect  these  primary 
regulations  of  society,  varies  according  to  Custom.  In  some 
communities  the  machinery  is  rude  and  imperfect ;  while 
others  have  greatly  improved  it.  The  Greeks  took  the  lead 
in  advancing  judicial  machinery,  the  Romans  followed. 

In  the  regulations  not  essential  to  Being,  but  important  to 
Well-being,  there  has  prevailed  the  widest  discrepancy  of 
usage.  The  single  department  relating  to  the  Sexes  is  a  suffi- 
cient testimony  on  this  head.  No  one  form  of  the  family  is 
indispensable  to  the  existence  of  society ;  yet  some  forms  are 
more  favourable  to  general  happiness  than  others.  But 
which  form  is  on  the  whole  the  best,  has  greatly  divided 
opinion;  and  legislation  has  varied  accordingly.  The  more 
advanced  nations  have  adopted  compulsory  monogamy,  thereby 
giving  the  prestige  of  their  authority  in  favour  of  that  system. 
But  it  cannot  be  affirmed  that  the  joining  of  one  man  to  one 
woman  is  a  portion  of '  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality.' 

Morality  is  an  Institution  of  society,  but  not  an  arbitrary 
institution. 

8.  Before  adducing  the  proofs  in  support  of  the  posi- 
tion above  assumed,  namely,  that  Utility  or  Human 
Happiness,  with  certain  limitations,  is  the  froper  criterion 
of  Morality,  it  is  proper  to  enquire,  what  sort  of  evidence 
the  Ethical  Standard  is  susceptible  of. 

Hitherto,  the  doctrine  of  Utility  has  been  assumed,  in 
order  to  be  fully  stated.  We  must  next  review  the  evidence 
in  its  favour,  and  the  objections  urged  against  it.  It  is  desir- 
able, however,  to  ask  what  kind  of  proof  should  be  expected 
on  such  a  question. 


WHAT   IS   THE   PROOF   OF   THE   STANDARD  ?  27 

In  the  Speculative  or  Theoretical  sciences,  we  prove  a  doc- 
trine by  referring  it  to  some  other  doctrine  or  doctrines,  until 
we  come  at  last  to  some  assumption  that  must  be  rested  in  as 
ultimate  or  final.  We  can  prove  tlie  propositions  of  Euclid, 
the  law  of  gravitation,  the  law  of  atomic  proportions,  the  law 
of  association ;  we  cannot  prove  our  present  sensations,  nor 
can  we  demonstrate  that  what  has  been,  will  be.  The  ultimate 
data  must  be  accepted  as  self-evident ;  they  have  no  hi^rher 
authority  than  that  mankind  -'enerally  are  disposed  to  accept 
them. 

In  the  practical  Sciences,  the  question  is  not  as  to  a  prin- 
ciple of  the  order  of  nature,  but  as  to  an  end  of  human  action. 
There  may  be  derived  Ends,  which  are  susceptible  of  demon- 
strative proof;  but  there  must  also  be  ultimate  Ends,  for 
which  no  proof  can  be  offered;  they  must  be  received  as 
self-evident,  and  their  sole  authority  is  the  person  receiving 
them.  In  most  of  the  practical  sciences,  the  ends  are  derived; 
the  end  of  Medicine  is  Health,  which  is  an  end  subsidiary  to 
the  final  end  of  human  happiness.  So  it  is  with  Navigation, 
with  Politics,  with  Education,  and  others.  In  all  of  them,  we 
recognize  the  bearing  upon  human  welfare,  or  happiness,  as  a 
common,  comprehensive,  and  crowning  end.  On  the  theory 
of  Utility,  Morals  is  also  governed  by  this  highest  end. 

Now,  there  can  be  no  proof  offered  for  the  position  that 
Happiness  is  the  proper  end  of  all  human  pursuit,  the  cri- 
terion of  all  right  conduct.  It  is  an  ultimate  or  final  assump- 
tion, to  be  tested  by  reference  to  the  individual  judgment  of 
mankind.  If  the  assumption,  that  misery,  and  not  happiness, 
is  the  proper  end  of  life,  found  supporters,  no  one  could  reply, 
for  want  of  a  basis  of  argument— an  assumption  still  more 
fundamental  agreed  upon  ^by  both  sides.  It  would  probably 
be  the  case,  that  the  supporters  of  misery,  as  an  end,  would  be 
at  some  point  inconsistent  with  themselves;  which  would  lay 
them  open  to  refutation.  But  to  any  one  consistently  main- 
taining the  position,  there  is  no  possible  reply,  because  there 
is  no  medium  of  proof. 

If  then,  it  appears,  on  making  the  appeal  to  mankind,  that 
happiness  is  admitted  to  be  the  highest  end  of  all  action,  the 
theory  of  Ut.lity  is  proved. 

9.  The  judgment  of  Mankind  is  very  generally  in 
favour  of  Happiness,  as  the  supreme  end  of  human  con- 
duct, Morality  included. 

This  decision,  however,  is  not  given  without  qualifica- 


28  THE   ETHICAL   STANDARD. 

tions  and  reservations ;    nor  is  there  perfect   unanimity 
regarding  it. 

The  theory  of  Motives  to  the  Will  is  the  answer  to  the 
question  as  to  the  ends  of  human  action.  According  to  the 
primary  law  of  the  Will,  each  one  of  us,  for  ourselves,  seeks 
pleasure  and  avoids  pain,  present  or  prospective.  The  prin- 
ciple is  interfered  with  by  the  operation  of  Fixed  Ideas,  under 
the  influence  of  the  feelings ;  whence  we  have  the  class  of 
Impassioned,  Exaggerated,  Irjational  Motives  or  Ends.  Of 
these  influences,  one  deserves  to  be  signalized  as  a  source  of 
virtuous  conduct,  and  as  approved  of  by  mankind  generally; 
that  is.  Sympathy  with  others. 

Under  the  Fixed  Idea,  may  be  ranked  the  acquired  sense 
of  Dignity,  which  induces  us  often  to  forfeit  pleasure  and 
incur  pain.  We  should  not  choose  the  life  of  Plato's  beatifled 
oyster,  or  (to  use  Aristotle's  example)  be  content  with  perpetual 
childhood,  with  however  great  a  share  of  childish  happiness. 

10.  The  Ethical  end  that  men  are  tending  to,  and  may 
ultimately  adopt  without  reservation,  is  human  Welfare, 
Happiness,  or  Being  and  Well-being  combined,  that  is, 
Utility. 

The  evidence  consists  of  such  facts  as  these  : — 

(1)  By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  morality  of  every  age 
and  country  has  reference  to  the  welfare  of  society.  Even 
in  the  most  superstitious,  sentimental,  and  capricious  despot- 
isms, a  very  large  share  of  the  enactments,  political  and  moral, 
consist  in  protecting  one  man  from  another,  and  in  securing 
justice  between  man  and  man.  These  objects  may  be  badly 
carried  out,  they  may  be  accompanied  with  much  oppression 
of  the  governed  by  the  governing  body,  but  they  are  always 
aimed  at,  and  occasionally  secured.  Of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, four  pertain  to  Religious  Worship  ;  six  are  Utilitarian, 
that  is,  have  no  end  except  to  ward  off  evils,  and  to  further 
the  good  of  mankind. 

(2)  The  general  welfare  is  at  all  times  considered  a 
strong  and  adequate  justification  of  moral  rules,  and  is  con- 
stantly adduced  as  a  motive  for  obedience.  The  common- 
places in  support  of  law  and  morality  represent,  that  if  mur- 
der and  theft  were  to  go  unpunished,  neither  life  nor  property 
would  be  safe;  men  would  be  in  eternal  warfare ;  industry 
would  perish  ;  society  must  soon  come  to  an  end. 

There  is  a  strong  disposition  to  support  the  more  purely 


HAPPINESS  THE  ADMITTEI)   ETHICAL   END.  29 

Bentimental   requirements,  and   even   the   excesses    of   mere 
tyranny,  by  utilitarian  reasons. 

The  cumbersome  ablutions  of  oriental  nations  are  defended 
on  the  ground  of  cleanliness.  The  divine  sanctity  of  kings  is 
held  to  be  an  aid  to  social  obedience.  Slavery  is  alleged 
to  have  been  at  one  tim.e  necessary  to  break  in  mankind  to 
industry.  Indissoluble  marriage  arose  from  a  sentiment 
rather  than  from  utility ;  but  the  arguments,  commonly  urged 
in  its  favour,  are  utilitarian. 

(3)  In  new  cases,  and  in  cases  where  no  sentiment  or 
passion  is  called  into  play,  Utility  alone  is  appealed  to.  In 
any  fresh  enactment,  at  the  present  day,  the  good  of  the  com- 
manity  is  the  only  justification  that  would  be  listened  to.  If 
it  were  proposed  to  forbid  absolutely  the  eating  of  pork  in 
Christian  countries,  some  great  public  evils  would  have  to  be 
assigned  as  the  motive.  Were  the  fatalities  attending  the 
eating  of  pork,  on  account  of  trichinicB^  to  become  numerous, 
a.nd  unpreventible,  there  would  then  be  a  reason,  such  as  a 
modern  civilized  community  would  consider  sufficient,  for 
making  the  rearing  of  swine  a  crime  and  an  immorality.  Bat 
no  mere  Sentimental  or  capricious  dislike  to  the  pig,  on  the 
part  of  any  numl^er  of  persons,  could  now  procure  an  enact- 
ment for  disusing  that  animal. 

(4)  There  is  a  gradual  tendency  to  withdraw  from  the 
moral  code,  observances  oiiginating  purely  in  sentiment,  and 
having  little  or  no  connexion  with  human  welfare. 

We  have  abandoned  the  divine  sacredness  of  kings.  We 
no  longer  consider  ourselves  morally  bound  to  denounce  and 
extirpate  heretics  and  witches,  still  less  to  observe  fasts  and 
sacred  days.  Even  in  regard  to  the  Christian  Sabbath,  the 
opinion  is  growing  in  favour  of  withdrawing  both  the  legal 
and  popular  sanction  formerly  so  stringent;  while  the  argu- 
ments for  Sabbath  observance  are  more  and  more  charged 
with  considerations  of  secular  utility. 

Should  these  considerations  be  held  as  adequate  to  support 
the  proposition  advanced,  they  are  decisive  in  favour  of  Utility 
as  the  Moral  Standard  that  ought  to  he.  Any  other  standard 
that  may  be  set  up  in  competition  with  Utility,  must  ultimately 
ground  itself  on  the  very  same  appeal  to  the  opinions  and  the 
practice  of  mankind. 

11.  The  chief  objections  urged  against  Utility  as  the 
moral  Standard  have  been  in  great  part  anticipated.  Still, 
It  is  proper  to  advert  to  them  in  detail 


30  THE   ETHICAL   STANDAKD. 

I. — It  is  maintained  that  Happiness  is  not,  either  in 
fact  or  in  right,  the  sole  aim  of  human  pursuit ;  that  meu 
actually,  deliberately,  and  by  conscientious  preference,  seek 
other  ends.  For  example,  it  is  affirmed  that  Virtue  is  an 
end  in  itself,  without  regard  to  happiness. 

On  this  argument  it  may  be  observed  : — 

(1)  It  has  been  abundantly  shown  in  this  work,  that  one 
part  of  the  foregoing  affirmation  is  strictly  true.  Men  are  not 
urged  to  action  exclusively  by  their  pleasures  and  their  pains. 
They  are  urged  by  other  motives,  of  the  impassioned  kind ; 
among  which,  is  to  be  signalized  sympathy  with  the  pains  and 
pleasures  of  others.  If  this  had  been  the  only  instance  of  action 
at  variance  with  the  regular  course  of  the  will,  we  should  be 
able  to  maintain  that  the  motive  to  act  is  still  happiness,  but 
not  always  the  agent's  own  happiness.  We  have  seen,  however, 
that  individuals,  not  unfrequently,  act  in  opposition  both  to 
their  own,  and  to  other  people's  happiness  ;  as  when  mastered 
by  a  panic,  and  when  worked  up  into  a  frenzy  of  anger  or 
antipathy. 

The  sound  and  tenable  position  seems  to  be  this : — Human 
beings,  in  their  best  and  soberest  moods,  looking  before  and 
after,  weighing  all  the  consequences  of  actions,  are  generally 
disposed  to  regard  Happiness,  to  some  bemgs  or  others,  as 
the  proper  end  of  all  endeavours.  The  mother  is  not  exclu- 
sively bent  on  her  own  happiness ;  she  is  upon  her  child's. 
Howard  abandoned  the  common  pleasures  of  life  for  himself, 
to  diminish  the  misery  of  fellow  creatures. 

(2)  It  is  true  that  human  beings  are  apt  to  regai'd  Virtue 
as  an  end-in-itself,  and  not  merely  as  a  means  to  happiness  as 
the  final  end.  Bat  the  fact  is  fully  accounted  for  on  the 
general  law  of  Association  by  Contiguity ;  there  being  many 
other  examples  of  the  same  kind,  as  the  love  of  money. 
Justice,  Veracity,  and  other  virtues,  are  requisite,  to  some 
extent,  for  the  existence  of  society,  and,  to  a  still  greater 
extent,  for  prosperous  existence.  Under  such  circumstances, 
it  would  certainly  happen  that  the  means  would  participate  in 
the  importance  of  the  end,  and  would  even  be  regarded  as  an 
end  in  itself. 

(3)  The  great  leading  duties  may  be  shown  to  derive  their 
estimation  from  their  bearing  upon  human  welfare.  Take 
lirst,  Veracity  or  Truth.  Of  all  the  moral  duties,  this  has 
most  the  appearance  of  being  an  absolute  and  independent- 
requirement.      Yet   mankind  have   always   approved  of  do- 


VIRTUE   NOT   AN   END   IN    ITSELF.  81 

ception  practised  upon  an  enemy  in  war,  a  madman,  or  a 
highway  robber.  Also,  secrecy  or  concealment,  even  although 
misinterpreted,  is  allowed,  when  it  does  not  cause  pernicious 
results ;  and  is  even  enjoined  and  required  in  the  intercourse 
of  society,  in  order  to  prevent  serious  evils.  But  an  absolute 
standard  of  truth  is  incompatible,  even  with  secrecy  or  dis- 
guise ;  in  departing  from  the  course  of  perfect  openness,  or 
absolute  publicity  of  thought  and  action,  in  every  possible 
circumstance,  we  renounce  ideal  truth  in  favour  of  a  com- 
promised or  qualified  veracity — a  pursuit  of  truth  in  subordi- 
nation to  the  general  w^ell-being  of  society. 

Still  less  is  there  any  form  of  Justice  that  does  not  have 
respect  to  Utility.  If  Justice  is  defined  as  giving  to  every  one 
their  own,  the  motive  clearly  is  to  prevent  misery  to  individuals. 
If  there  were  a  species  of  injustice  that  made  no  one  unhap- 
pier,  we  may  be  quite  sure  that  tribunals  would  not  be  set  up 
for  enforcing  and  punishing  it.  The  idea  of  equality  in  Jus- 
tice is  seemingly  an  absolute  conception,  bu1>,  in  point  of  fact, 
equality  is  a  matter  of  institution.  The  children  of  the  same 
parent  are,  in  certain  circumstances,  regarded  as  unequal  by 
the  law  ;  and  justice  consists  in  respecting  this  inequality. 

The  virtue  of  Self-denial,  is  one  that  receives  the  commen- 
dation of  society,  and  stands  high  in  the  morality  of  reward, 
bitill,  it  is  a  means  to  an  end.  The  operation  of  the  associat- 
ing principle  tends  to  raise  it  above  this  point  to  the  rank  of  a 
final  end.  And  there  is  an  ascetic  scheme  of  life  that  proceeds 
upon  this  supposition  ;  but  the  generality  of  mankind,  in 
practice,  if  not  always  in  theory,  disavow  it. 

(4)  It  is  often  affirmed  by  those  that  regard  virtue,  and 
not  happiness,  as  the  end,  that  the  two  coincide  in  the  long  run. 
Now,  not  to  dwell  upon  the  very  serious  doubts  as  to  the  matter 
of  fact,  a  universal  coincidence  without  causal  connexion  is 
so  rare  as  to  be  in  the  last  degree  improbable.  A  fiction  of 
this  sort  was  contrived  by  Leibnitz,  under  the  title  of  *  pre- 
established  harmony ; '  but,  among  the  facts  of  the  universe, 
there  are  only  one  or  two  cases  known  to  investigation. 

12.  II. — It  is  objected  to  Utility  as  the  Standard,  that 
the  bearings  of  conduct  on  general  happiness  are  too 
numerous  to  be  calculated ;  and  that  even  where  the  cal- 
culation is  possible,  people  have  seldom  time  to  make  it. 

(1)  It  is  answered,  that  the  primary  moral  duties  refer  to 
conduct  where  the  consequences  are  evident  and  sure.  The 
disregard  of  Justice  and  Truth  would  to  an  absolute  certainty 


32  THE  ETHICAL   STANDARD. 


^ 


bring  about  a  state  of  confusion  and  ruin  ;  their  observance, 
in  any  high  degree,  contributes  to  raise  the  standard  of 
well-being. 

In  other  cases,  the  calculation  is  not  easy,  from  the  num- 
ber of  opposing  considerations.  For  example,  there  are  two 
sides  to  the  question,  Is  dissent  morally  wrong  ?  in  other 
words.  Ought  all  opinions  to  be  tolerated  ?  But  if  we  venture 
to  decide  such  a  question,  without  the  balancing  or  calculating 
process,  we  must  follow  blindfold  the  dictates  of  one  or  other 
of  the  two  opposing  sentiments, — Love  of  Power  and  Love 
of  Liberty. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  go  through  the  process 
of  calculation  every  time  we  have  occasion  to  perform  a  moral 
act.  The  calculations  have  already  been  performed  for  all  the 
leading  duties,  and  we  have  only  to  apply  the  maxims  to  the 
cases  as  they  arise. 

13.  IIL — The  principle  of  Utility,  it  is  said,  contains 
no  motives  to  seek  the  Happiness  of  others ;  it  is  essen- 
tially a  form  of  Self-Love. 

The  averment  is  that  Utility  is  a  sufficient  motive  to  pur- 
sue our  own  happiness,  and  the  happiness  of  others  as  a  means 
to  our  own ;  but  it  does  not  afford  any  purely  disinterested 
impulses ;  it  is  a  Selfish  theory  after  all. 

Now,  as  Utility  is,  by  profession,  a  benevolent  and  not  a 
selfish  theory,  either  such  profession  is  insincere,  or  there  must 
be  an  obstruction  in  carrying  it  out.  That  the  supporters  of 
the  theory  are  insincere,  no  one  has  a  right  to  affirm.  The 
only  question  then  is,  what  are  the  difficulties  opposed  by  this 
theory,  and  not  present  in  other  theories  (the  Moral  Sense,  for 
example)  to  benevolent  impulses  on  the  part  of  individuals  ? 

Let  us  view  the  objection  first  as  regards  the  Morality  of 
Obligation,  or  the  duties  that  bind  society  together.  Of  these 
duties,  only  a  small  number  aim  at  positive  beneficence ;  they 
are  either  Protective  of  one  man  against  another,  or  they 
enforce  Reciprocity,  which  is  another  name  for  Justice.  The 
chief  exception  is  the  requiring  of  a  minimum  of  charity 
towards  the  needy. 

This  department  of  duty  is  maintained  by  the  force  of  a 
certain  mixture  of  prudential  and  of  beneficent  considerations, 
on  the  part  of  the  majority,  and  by  prudence  (as  fear  of  punish- 
ment) on  the  part  of  the  minority.  But  there  does  not  appear 
to  be  anything  in  our  professedly  Benevolent  Theory  of  Morals 
to  interfere  with  the  small  portion  of  disinterested  impulse  that 


OBJECTIONS  TO   THE   PRINCIPLE   OF    UTILITY.  33 

IS  bound  up  with  prudential  regards,  in  the  total  of  motives  con- 
cerned i«  the  morahty  of  social  order  called  the  primary  or 
obligatory  morality. 

Let  us,  in  the  next  place,  view  the  objection  as  regards 
Optional  Morality,  where  positive  beneficence  has  full  play. 
The  principal  motive  in  this  department  is  Reward,  in  the 
shape  either  of  benefits  or  of  approbation.  Now,  there  is 
nothing  to  hinder  the  supporters  of  the  standard  of  Utility 
from  joining  in  the  rewards  or  commendations  bestowed  on 
works  of  charity  and  beneficence. 

Again,  there  is,  in  the  constitution  of  the  mind,  a  motive 
superior  to  reward,  namely,  Sympathy  proper,  or  the  purely 
Disinterested  impulse  to  alleviate  the  pains  and  advance  the 
pleasures  of  others.  This  part  of  the  mind  is  wholly  umelji-sh ; 
it  needs  no  other  prompting  than  the  fact  that  some  one  is  in 
pain,  or  may  be  made  hapj)ier  by  something  within  the  power 
ot  the  agent. 

The  objectors  need  to  be  reminded  that  Obligatory 
Morality,  which  works  by  punishment,  creates  a  purely  selfish 
motive ;  that  Optional  Morality,  in  so  far  as  stimulated  by 
Rewaixi,  is  also  selfish ;  and  that  the  only  source  of  purely 
disinterested  impulses  is  in  the  unprompted  Sympathy  of  the 
individual  mind.  If  such  sympathies  exist,  and  if  nothing  is 
done  to  uproot  or  paralyze  them,  they  will  urge  men  to  do 
good  to  others,  irrespective  of  all  theories.  Good  done  from 
any  other  source  or  mr-tive  is  necessarily  self-seeking.  It  is  a 
common  remark,  with  reference  to  the  sanctions  of  a  future 
life,  that  they  create  purely  self-regarding  motives.  Any  pro- 
posal to  increase  disinterested  action  by  moral  obligation  con- 
tains a  self-contradiction;  it  is  suicidal.  The  rich  may  be 
made  to  give  half  their  wealth  to  the  poor;  but  in  as  far  as 
they  are  made  to  do  it,  they  are  not  benevolent.  Law  distrusts 
generosity  and  supersedes  it.  If  a  man  is  expected  to  regard 
the  happiness  of  others  as  an  end  in  itself,  and  not  as  means 
to  his  own  happiness,  he  must  be  left  to  his  own  impulses : 
'  the  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained.^  The  advocates  of 
Utility  may  observe  non-interference  as  well  as  others. 


34  THE  MORAL  FACULTY. 


CHAPTER    III. 
THE    MORAL    FACULTY. 

1.  The  chief  question  in  the  Psychology  of  Ethics  is 
whether  the  Moral  Faculty,  or  Conscience,  be  a  simple  or  a 
complex  fact  of  the  mind. 

Practically,  it  would  seem  of  little  importance  in  what 
way  the  moral  faculty  originated,  except  with  a  view  to  teach 
us  how  it  m.ay  be  best  strengthened  when  it  happens  to  be 
weak.  Still,  a  very  great  importance  has  been  attached  to  the 
view,  that  it  is  simple  and  innate;  the  supposition  being 
that  a  higher  authority  thereby  belongs  to  it.  If  it  arises 
from  mere  education,  it  depends  on  the  teacher  for  the  time 
being ;  if  it  exists  prior  to  all  education,  it  seems  to  be  the 
voice  of  universal  nature  or  of  God. 

2.  In  favour  of  the  simple  and  intuitive  character  of 
Moral  Sentiment,  it  is  argued  : — 

First,  That  our  judgments  of  right  and  wrong  are  im- 
mediate and  instantaneous. 

On  almost  all  occasions,  we  are  ready  at  once  to  pronounce 
an  action  right  or  wrong.  We  do  not  need  to  deliberate  or 
enquire,  or  to  canvass  reasons  and  considerations  for  and 
against,  in  order  to  declare  a  murder,  a  theft,  or  a  lie  to  be 
wrong.  We  are  fully  armed  with  the  power  of  deciding  all 
such  questions;  we  do  not  hesitate,  like  a  person  that  has  to 
consult  a  variety  of  different  faculties  or  interests.  Just  as 
we  pronounce  at  once  whether  the  day  is  light  or  dark,  hot  or 
cold;  whether  a  weight  is  light  or  heavy; — we  are  able  to 
say  whether  an  action  is  morally  right  or  the  opposite. 

3.  Secondly,  It  is  a  faculty  or  power  belonging  to  all 
mankind. 

This  was  expressed  by  Cicero,  in  a  famous  passage,  often  j 
quoted  with  approbation,  by  the  supporters  of  innate  moral  | 
distinctions.     '  There  is  one  true  and  original  law  conformable  ' 
to  reason  and  to  nature,  diffused  over  all,  invariable,  eternal, 
which  calls  to  duty  and  deters  from  injustice,  &c.' 


IS  THE   MORAL  FACULTY  AN   INTUITION?  35 

4.  Thhdly,  Moral  Sentiment  is  said  to  be  radically- 
different  in  its  nature  from  any  other  fact  or  phenomenon 
of  the  mind. 

The  peculiar  state  of  discriminating  right  and  wrong, 
involving  approbation  and  disapprobation,  is  considered  to  be 
entirely  unlike  any  other  mental  element ;  and,  if  so,  we  are 
precluded  from  resolving  or  analyzing  it  into  simpler  modes 
of  feeling,  willing,  or  thinking. 

We  have  many  feeHngs  that  urge  us  to  act  and  abstain 
from  acting ;  but  the  prompting  of  conscience  has  something 
peculiar  to  itself,  which  has  been  expressed  by  the  terms  right- 
ness,  authority,  supremacy.  Other  motives, — hunger,  curi- 
osity, benevolence,  and  so  on, — have  might,  this  has  right. 

So,  the  Intellect  has  many  occasions  for  putting  forth  its 
aptitudes  of  discriminating,  identifying,  remembering ;  but 
the  operation  of  discerning  right  and  wrong  is  supposed  to  be 
a  unique  employment  of  those  functions. 

5.  In  reply  to  these  arguments,  and  in  support  of  the 
view  that  the  Moral  Faculty  is  complex  and  derived,  the 
following  considerations  are  urged : — 

First,  The  Immediateness  of  a  judgment,  is  no  proof 
of  its  being  innate;  long  practice  or  familiarity  has  the 
same  effect. 

In  proportion  as  we  are  habituated  to  any  subject,  or  any 
class  of  operations,  our  decisions  are  rapid  and  independent 
of  deliberation.  An  expert  geometer  sees  at  a  glance  whether 
a  demonstration  is  correct.  In  extempore  speech,  a  person 
has  to  perform  every  moment  a  series  of  judgments  as  to  the 
suitability  of  words  to  meaning,  to  grammar,  to  taste,  to  effect 
upon  an  audience.  An  old  soldier  knows  in  an  instant,  with- 
out thought  or  deliberation,  whether  a  position  is  sufficiently 
guarded.  There  is  no  greater  rapidity  in  the  judgments  of  right 
and  wrong,  than  in  these  acquired  professional  judgments. 

Moreover,  the  decisions  of  conscience  are  quick  only  in  the 
simpler  cases.  It  happens  not  unfrequently  that  difficult  and 
protracted  deliberations  are  necessary  to  a  moral  judgment. 

6.  Secondly,  The  alleged  similarity  of  men's  moral 
judgments  in  all  countries  and  times  holds  only  to  a 
limited  degree. 

The  very  great  differences  among  different  nations,  as  to 
what  constitutes  right  and  wrong,  are  too  numerous,  striking, 


36  THE  MOEAL  FACULTY. 

and  serious,  not  to  have  been  often  brought  forward  in  Ethical 
controversy.  Robbery  and  murder  are  legalized  in  whole 
nations.  Macaulay's  picture  of  tbe  Highland  Chief  of  former 
days  is  not  singular  in  the  experience  of  mankind. 

*  His  own  vassals,  indeed,  were  few  in  number,  but  he  came  of 
the  best  blood  of  the  Highlands.  He  kept  up  a  close  connexion 
with  his  more  powerful  kinsmen;  nor  did  they  like  him  the  less 
because  he  was  a  robber ;  for  he  never  robbed  them ;  and  that 
robbery,  merely  as  robbery,  was  a  wicked  and  disgraceful  act,  had 
never  entered  into  the  mind  of  any  Celtic  chief.' 

Various  answers  have  been  given  by  the  advocates  of 
innate  morality  to  these  serious  discrepancies. 

(1)  It  is  maintained  that  savage  or  uncultivated  nations 
are  not  a  fair  criterion  of  mankind  generally :  that  as  men 
become  more  civilized,  they  approximate  to  unity  of  moral 
sentiment ;  and  what  civilized  men  agree  in,  is  alone  to  be 
taken  as  the  judgment  of  the  race. 

Now,  this  argument  would  have  great  weight,  in  any  dis- 
cussion as  to  what  is  good,  useful,  expedient,  or  what  is  in 
accordance  with  the  cultivated  reason  or  intelligence  of  man- 
kind ;  because  civilization  consists  in  the  exercise  of  men's 
intellectual  faculties  to  improve  their  condition.  But  in  a 
controversy  as  to  w^hat  is  given  us  by  nature, — what  we 
possess  independently  of  intelligent  search  and  experience, — 
the  appeal  to  civilization  does  not  apply.  What  civilized 
men  agree  upon  among  themselves,  as  opposed  to  savages, 
is  likely  to  be  the  reverse  of  a  natural  instinct ;  in  other 
words,  something  suggested  by  reason  and  experience. 

In  the  next  place,  counting  only  civilized  races,  that  is, 
including  the  chief  European,  American,  and  Asiatic  peoples 
of  the  present  day,  and  the  Greeks  and  Romans  of  the  ancient 
world,  we  still  hnd  disparities  on  what  are  deemed  by  us 
fundamental  points  of  moral  right  and  wrong.  Polygamy  is 
regarded  as  right  in  Turkey,  India,  and  China,  and  as  wrong 
in  England.  Marriages  that  we  pronounce  incestuous  were 
legitimate  in  ancient  times.  The  views  entertained  by  Plato 
and  Aristotle  as  to  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes  are  now 
looked  upon  with  abhorrence. 

(2)  It  has  been  replied  that,  although  men  differ  greatly 
in  what  they  consider  right  and  wrong,  they  all  agree  in 
possessing  some  notion  of  right  and  wrong.  No  people  are 
entirely  devoid  of  moral  judgments. 

But  this  is  to  surrender  the  only  position  of  any  real  im- 
portance.    The  simple  and   underived  character  of  the  moral 


MORALITY   IS  A  CODE.  3Y 

focnlty  is  maintained  because  of  the  superior  authority  at- 
tached to  what  is  natural,  as  opposed  to  what  is  merely  con- 
ventional. But  if  nothing  be  natural  but  the  mere  fact  of 
right  and  wrong,  while  all  the  details,  which  alone  have  any 
value,  are  settled  by  convention  and  custom,  we  are  as  much 
at  sea  on  one  system  as  on  the  other. 

(3)  It  is  fully  admitted,  being,  indeed,  impossible  to  deny, 
that  education  must  concur  with  natural  impulses  in  making 
up  the  moral  sentiment.  No  human  being,  abandoned  en- 
tirely to  native  promptings,  is  ever  found  to  manifest  a  sense 
of  right  and  wrong.  As  a  general  rule,  the  strength  of  the 
conscience  depends  on  the  care  bestowed  on  its  cultivacion. 
Although  we  have  had  to  recognize  primitive  distinctions 
among  men  as  to  the  readiness  to  take  on  moral  training,  still, 
the  better  the  training,  the  stronger  will  be  the  conscientious 
determinations. 

But  this  admission  has  the  effect  of  reducing  the  part 
performed  by  nature  to  a  small  and  uncertain  amount.  Even 
if  there  were  native  preferences,  they  might  be  completely 
overborne  and  reversed  by  an  assiduous  education.  The 
difference  made  by  inculcation  is  so  great,  that  it  practically 
amounts  to  everything.  A  voice  so  feeble  as  to  be  overpowered 
by  foreign  elements  would  do  no  credit  to  nature. 

7.  Thirdly,  Moral  right  and  wrong  is  not  so  much  a 
simple,  indivisible  property,  as  an  extensive  Code  of  regu- 
lations, which  cannot  even  be  understood  without  a  cer- 
tain maturity  of  the  intelligence. 

It  is  not  possible  to  sum  up  the  whole  field  of  moral  right 
and  wrong,  so  as  to  bring  it  within  the  scope  of  a  single  limited 
perception,  like  the  perception  of  resistance,  or  of  colour.  In 
regard  to  some  of  the  alleged  intuitions  at  the  foundation  of 
oui*  knowledge,  as  for  example  time  and  space,  there  is  a 
comparative  simplicity  and  unity,  rendering  their  innate 
origin  less  disputable.  No  such  simplicity  can  be  assigned 
in  the  region  of  duty. 

After  the  subject  of  morals  has  been  studied  in  the  detail, 
it  has,  indeed,  been  found  practicable  to  comprise  the  whole, 
by  a  kind  of  generalization,  in  one  comprehensive  recognition 
of  regard  to  our  fellows.  But,  in  the  first  place,  this  is  far  from 
a  primitive  or  an  intuitive  suggestion  of  the  mind.  It  came 
at  a  late  stage  of  human  history,  and  is  even  regarded  as  a  part 
of  E/Cvelation.  In  the  second  place,  this  high  generality  must 
be  accompanied  with  detailed  applications  to  particular  cases 


38  THE  MORAL  FACULTY. 

and  circumstances.  Life  is  full  of  conflicting  demands,  and 
there  must  be  special  rules  to  adjust  these  various  demands. 
We  have  to  be  told  that  country  is  greater  than  family ;  that 
temporary  interests  are  to  succumb  to  more  enduring,  and  so  on. 

Supposing  the  Love  of  our  Neighbour  to  unfold  in  detail, 
ils  it  expresses  in  sum,  the  whole  of  morality,  this  is  only 
another  name  for  our  Sympathetic,  Benevolent,  or  Disin- 
terested regards,  into  which  therefore  Conscience  would  be 
resolved,  as  it  was  by  Hume. 

But  Morals  is  properly  considered  as  a  wide-ranging 
science,  having  a  variety  of  heads  full  of  difficulty,  and  de- 
manding minute  consideration.  The  subject  of  Justice,  has 
nothing  simple  but  the  abstract  statement — giving  each  one 
their  due  ;  before  that  can  be  applied,  we  must  ascertain  what 
is  each  person's  due,  which  introduces  complex  questions  of 
relative  merit,  far  transcending  the  sphere  of  intuition. 

If  any  part  of  Morals  had  the  simplicity  of  an  instinct,  it 
would  be  i-egard  to  Truth.  The  difference  between  truth  and 
falsehood  might  almost  be  regarded  as  a  primitive  suscepti- 
bility, like  the  difference  between  light  and  dark,  between  resist- 
ance and  non-resistance.  That  each  person  should  say  what  is, 
instead  of  what  is  not,  may  well  seem  a  primitive  and  natural 
impulse.  In  circumstances  of  perfect  indifference,  this  would 
be  the  obvious  and  usual  course  of  conduct ;  being,  like  the 
straight  line,  the  shortest  distance  between  two  points.  Let 
a  motive  arise,  however,  in  favour  of  the  lie,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  insure  the  truth.  Reference  must  be  made  to 
other  parts  of  the  mind,  from  which  counter-motives  may 
be  furnished  ;  and  the  intuition  in  favour  of  Truth,  not  being 
able  to  support  itself,  has  to  repose  on  the  general  foundation 
of  all  virtue,  the  instituted  recognition  of  the  claims  of  others. 

8.  Fourthly,  Intuition  is  incapable  of  settling  the  de- 
bated questions  of  Practical  Morality. 

If  we  recall  some  of  the  great  questions  of  practical  life 
that  have  divided  the  opinions  of  mankind,  we  shall  find  that 
mere  Intuition  is  helpless  to  decide  them. 

The  toleration  of  heretical  opinions  has  been  a  greatly  con- 
tested point.  Our  feelings  are  arrayed  on  both  sides ;  and 
there  is  no  prompting  of  nature  to  arbitrate  between  the 
o])posing  impulses.  If  the  advance  of  civilization  has  tended 
to  liberty,  it  has  been  owing  partly  to  greater  enlightenment, 
and  partly  to  the  successful  struggles  of  dissent  in  the  war 
with  established  opinion. 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FACULTY.        39 

The  qnestions  relating  to  marriage  are  wholly  niidecideable 
by  intuition.  The  natural  impulses  are  for  unlimited  co-habi- 
tation. The  degTee  of  restraint  to  bo  put  upon  this  tendency 
is  not  indicated  by  any  sentiment  that  can  be  discovered  in 
the  mind.  The  case  is  very  peculiar.  In  theft  and  murder, 
the  immediate  consequences  are  injnry  to  some  one  ;  in  sexual 
indulgence,  the  immediate  result  is  agreeable  to  all  concerned. 
The  evils  are  traceable  only  in  remote  consequences,  which  in- 
tuition can  know  nothing  of.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered,  there- 
fore, that  nations,  even  highly  civilized,  have  differed  widely 
in  their  marriage  institutions  ;  agreeing  only  in  the  propriety 
of  adopting  and  enforcing  some  regulations.  So  essentially 
has  this  matter  been  bound  up  with  the  moral  code  of  every 
society,  that  a  proposed  criterion  of  morality  unable  to  grapple 
with  it,  would  be  discarded  as  worthless.  Yet  there  is  no  in- 
tuitive sentiment  that  can  be  of  any  avail  in  the  question  of 
mai'riage  with  a  deceased  wife's  sister. 

9.  Fifthly,  It  is  practicable  to  analyze  or  resolve  the 
Moral  Faculty  ;  and,  in  so  doing,  to  explain,  both  its  pecu- 
liar property,  and  the  similarity  of  moral  judgments  so  far 
as  existing  among  men. 

We  begin  by  estimating  the  operation  of  (1)  Prudence, 
(2)  Sympathy,  and  (3)  the  Emotions  generally. 

The  inducements  to  perform  a  moral  act,  as,  for  example, 
the  tulhlling  of  a  bargain, — are  plainly  seen  to  be  of  various 
kinds. 

(1)  Prudence,  or  Self-interest,  has  obviously  much  to  do 
with  the  moral  conduct.  Postponing  for  the  present  the  con- 
sideration of  Punishment,  which  is  one  mode  of  appeal  to  the 
prudential  regards,  we  can  trace  the  workings  of  self-interest 
on  many  occasions  wherein  men  act  right.  To  fulfil  a  bargain 
is,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  for  the  advantage  of  the 
agent ;  if  he  fails  to  perform  his  part,  others  may  do  the 
same  to  him. 

Our  self-interest  may  look  still  farther.  We  may  readily 
discover  that  if  we  set  an  example  of  injustice,  it  may  be 
taken  up  and  repeated  to  such  a  degree  that  we  can  count 
upon  nothing  ;  social  security  comes  to  an  end,  and  individual 
existence,  even  if  possible,  would  cease  to  be  desirable. 

A  yet  higher  view  of  self-interest  informs  us,  that  by  per- 
forming all  our  obligations  to  our  fellows,  we  not  only  attain 
reciprocal  performance,  but  generate  mutual  affections  and 
sympathies,  which  greatly  augment  the  happiness  of  life. 


40  THE  MORAL  FACULTY. 

(2)  Sympathy,  or  Fellow-feeling,  tlie  source  of  onr  dis- 
interested actions,  must  next  be  taken  into  the  account.  It 
is  a  consequence  of  oar  sympathetic  endowment  that  we  revolt 
from  inflicting  pain  on  another,  and  even  forego  a  certain 
satisfaction  to  self  rather  than  be  the  occasion  of  suffering  to 
a  fellow  creature.  Moved  thus,  we  perform  many  obligations 
on  the  ground  of  the  misery  (not  our  own)  accruing  from 
their  neglect. 

A  considerable  portion  of  human  virtue  spnngs  directly 
from  this  source.  If  purely  disinterested  tendencies  were 
withdrawn  from  the  breast,  the  whole  existence  of  humanity 
would  be  changed.  Society  might  not  be  impossible ;  there 
are  races  where  mutual  sympathy  barely  exists  :  but  the  ful- 
filment of  obligations,  if  always  dependent  on  a  sense  of 
self-interest,  would  fail  where  that  was  not  apparent.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  we  were  on  all  occasions  touched  with  the  un- 
happiness  to  others  immediately  and  remotely  springing  from 
our  conduct — if  sympathy  were  perfect  and  unfailing — we 
could  hardly  ever  omit  doing  what  was  right. 

(3)  Our  several  Emotions  or  Passions  may  co-operate 
with  Prudence  and  with  Sympathy  in  a  way  to  make  both 
the  one  and  the  other  more  ef&cacious. 

Prudence,  in  the  shape  of  aversion  to  pain,  is  rendered 
more  acute  when  the  pain  is  accompanied  with  Fear.  The 
perturbation  of  fear  rises  up  as  a  deterring  motive  when 
dangers  loom  in  the  distance.  One  powerful  check  to  the 
commission  of  injury  is  the  retaliation  of  the  sufferer,  which 
is  a  danger  of  the  vague  and  illimitable  kind,  calculated  to 
create  alarm. 

Anger,  or  Resentment,  also  enters,  in  various  ways,  into 
our  moral  impulses.  In  one  shape  it  has  just  been  noticed. 
In  concurrence  with  Self-interest  and  Sympathy,  it  heightens 
the  feeling  of  reprobation  against  wrong-doers. 

The  Tender  Emotion,  and  the  Affections,  uphold  us  in  the 
performance  of  our  duties  to  others,  being  an  additional  safe- 
guard against  injury  to  the  objects  of  the  feelings.  It  has 
already  been  shown  how  these  emotions,  while  tending  to 
coalesce  w^ith  Sympathy  proper,  are  yet  distinguished  from  it. 

The  -Esthetic  Emotions  have  important  bearings  upon 
Ethical  Sentiment.  As  a  whole,  they  are  favourable  to 
human  virtue,  being  non-exclusive  pleasures.  They,  how- 
ever, give  a  bias  to  the  formation  of  moral  rules,  and  pervert 
the  proper  test  of  right  and  wrong  in  a  manner  to  be  after- 
wards explained. 


BIGHTNESS   IMPLIES   GOVERNMENT   OR  AUTHORITY.      41 

10.  Althongli  Prudence  and  Sympathy,  and  the  various 
Emotions  named,  are  powerful  inducements  to  what  is 
right  in  action,  and  although,  without  these,  right  would 
not  prevail  among  mankind,  yet  they  do  not  stamp  the 
feculiar  attrilmte  of  Eightness.  For  this,  we  must  refer 
to  the  institution  of  Government,  or  Authority. 

Although  the  force  of  these  various  motives  on  the  side  of 
right  is  all-powerful  and  essential,  so  much  so,  that  without 
them  morality  would  be  impossible,  they  do  not,  of  them- 
selves, impart  the  character  of  a  moral  act.  We  do  not 
always  feel  that,  because  we  have  neglected  our  interest  or 
violated  our  sympathies,  we  have  on  that  account  done  wrong. 
The  criterion  of  Tightness  in  particular  cases  is  something 
dijQTerent. 

The  reasons  are  apparent.  For  although  prudence,  as 
regards  self,  and  sympathy  or  fellow-feeling,  as  regards 
others,  would  comprehend  all  the  interests  of  mankind — 
everything  that  morality  can  desire  to  accomplish — neverthe- 
less, the  acting  out  of  these  impulses  by  each  individual  at 
random  would  not  suffice  for  the  exigencies  of  human  lifie. 
They  must  be  regulated,  directed,  reconciled  by  society  at 
large;  each  person  must  be  made  to  work  upon  the  same 
plan  as  every  other  person.  This  leads  to  the  institution  of 
Government  and  Authority,  with  the  correlatives  of  Law, 
Obligation,  and  Punishment.  Our  natural  impulses  for 
good  are  now  directed  into  an  artificial  channel,  and  it  is  no 
longer  optional  whether  they  shall  fall  into  that  channel. 
The  nature  of  the  case  requires  all  to  conform  alike  to  the 
general  arrangements,  and  whoever  is  not  sufficiently  urged 
by  the  natural  motives,  is  brought  under  the  spur  of  a  new 
kind  of  prudential  motive — Punishment. 

Government,  Authority,  Law,  Obhgation,  Punishment,  a,re 
all  implicated  in  the  same  great  Institution  of  Society,  to  which 
Morality  owes  its  chief  foundation,  and  the  Moral  Sentiment 
its  special  attribute.  Morality  is  not  Prudence,  nor  Benevo- 
lence, in  their  primitive  or  spontaneous  manifestations ;  it  is 
the  systematic  codification  of  prudential  and  benevolent 
actions,  rendered  obligatory  by  what  is  termed  penalties  or 
Punishment ;  an  entirely  distinct  motive,  artificially  framed 
by  human  society,  but  made  so  familiar  to  every  member  of 
Bociety  as  to  be  a  second  nature.  None  are  allowed  to  be  pru- 
dential or  sympathizing  in  their  own  way.  Parents  are  com- 
pelled to  nourish  their  own  children ;  servants  to  obey  their 


4:2  THE   MORAL   FACULTY. 

own  masters,  to  the  neglect  of  other  regards  ;  all  citizens  have 
to  abide  by  the  awards  of  authority ;  bargains  are  to  be  ful- 
filled according  to  a  prescribed  form  and  letter ;  truth  is  to  be 
spoken  on  certain  definite  occasions,  and  not  on  others.  In  a 
formed  society,  the  very  best  impulses  of  nature  fail  to  guide 
the  citizen's  actions.  No  doubt  there  ought  to  be  a  general 
coincidence  between  what  Prudence  and  S^-mpathy  would 
dictate,  and  what  Law  dictates;  but  the  precise  adjustment  is 
a  matter  of  institution.  A  moral  act  is  not  merely  an  act  tend* 
iug  to  reconcile  the  good  of  the  agent  with  the  good  of  the 
whole  society ;  it  is  an  act,  prescribed  by  the  social  authority, 
and  rendered  obligatory  upon  every  citizen.  Its  morality  is 
constituted  by  its  authoritative  prescription,  and  not  by  its 
fulfilling  the  primary  ends  of  the  social  institution.  A  bad 
law  is  still  a  law ;  an  ill-judged  moral  precept  is  still  a  moral 
precept,  felt  as  such  by  every  loyal  citizen. 

11.  It  may  be  proved,  by  such  evidence  as  the  case 
admits  of,  that  the  peculiarity  of  the  Moral  Sentiment,  or 
Conscience,  is  identified  with  our  education  under  govern- 
ment, or  Authority. 

Conscience  is  described  by  such  terms  as  moral  approba- 
tion and  disapprobation  ;  and  involves,  when  highly  developed, 
a  peculiar  and  unmistakeable  revulsion  of  mind  at  what  is 
wrong,  and  a  strong  resentment  towards  the  wrong-doer, 
which  become  Remorse,  in  the  case  of  self. 

It  is  capable  of  being  proved,  that  there  is  nothing  natural 
or  primitive  in  these  feelings,  except  in  so  far  as  the  case  hap- 
pens to  concur  with  the  dictates  of  Self-interest,  or  Sympathy, 
aided  by  the  Emotions  formerly  specified.  Any  action  that  is 
hostile  to  our  interest,  excites  a  form  of  disapprobation,  such 
as  belongs  to  wounded  self-interest ;  and  any  action  that  puts 
another  to  pain  may  so  affect  our  natural  sympathy  as  to  be 
disapproved,  and  resented  on  that  ground.  These  natural  or 
inborn  feelings  are  alwa^^s  liable  to  coincide  with  moral  right 
and  wrong,  although  they  are  not  its  criterion  or  measure  in  the 
mind  of  each  individual.  But  in  those  cases  where  an  unusually 
strong  feeling  of  moral  disapprobation  is  awakened,  there  is 
apt  to  be  a  concurrence  of  the  primitive  motives  of  self,  and  of 
fellow-feeling;  and  it  is  the  ideal  of  good  law,  and  good  morality, 
to  coincide  with  a  certain  well-proportioned  adjustment  of  the 
Prudential  and  the  Sympathetic  regards  of  the  individual 

The  requisite  allowance  being  made  for  the  natural  im- 
pulses, we  must  now  adduce  the  facts,  showing  that  the  cha- 


CONSCIENCE  AN  EDUCATION  UNDER  AUTHORITY.   43 

raoteristic  of  the  Moral  Sense  is  an  education  under  Law,  or 
Authority,  through  the  instrumentality  of  Punishment. 

(1)  It  is  a  fact  that  human  beings  living  in  society  are 
placed  under  discipline,  accompanied  by  punishment.  Cer- 
tain actions  are  forbidden,  and  the  doers  of  them  are  sub- 
jected to  some  painful  infliction ;  which  is  increased  in  severity 
if  they  are  persisted  in.  Now,  what  would  be  the  natural 
consequence  of  such  a  system,  under  the  known  hiws  oi 
feeling,  will,  and  intellect  ?  Would  not  an  action  that  always 
brings  down  punishment  be  associated  with  the  pain  and  the 
dread  of  punishment?  Such  an  association  is  inevitably 
formed,  and  becomes  at  least  a  part,  and  a  very  important 
part,  of  the  sense  of  duty ;  nay,  it  would  of  itself,  after  a 
certain  amount  of  repetition,  be  adequate  to  restrain  for 
ever  the  performance  of  the  action,  thus  attaining  the  end  of 
morality. 

There  may  be  various  ways  of  evoking  and  forming  the 
moral  sentiment,  but  the  one  waymost  commonly  trusted  to,  and 
never  altogether  dispensed  with,  is  the  associating  of  pain,  that 
is,  punishment,  with  the  actions  that  are  disallowed.  Punish- 
ment is  held  out  as  the  consequence  of  performing  certain 
actions ;  every  individual  is  made  to  taste  of  it ;  its  infliction 
is  one  of  the  most  familiar  occurrences  of  every-day  life. 
Consequently,  whatever  else  may  be  present  in  the  moral 
sentiment,  this  fact  of  the  connexion  of  pain  with  forbidden 
actions  must  enter  into  it  with  an  overpowering  prominence. 
Any  natural  or  primitive  impulse  in  the  direction  of  duty 
must  be  very  marked  and  apparent,  in  order  to  divide  with 
this  communicated  bias  the  direction  of  our  conduct.  It  is 
for  the  supporters  of  innate  distinctions  to  point  out  any 
concurring  impetus  (apa.rt  from  the  Prudential  and  Sympa- 
thetic regards)  sufiiciently  important  to  cast  these  powerful 
associations  into  a  secondary  or  subordinate  position. 

By  a  familiar  effect  of  Contiguous  Association,  the  dread 
c  f  punishment  clothes  the  forbidden  act  with  a  feeling  of 
aversion,  which  in  the  end  persists  of  its  own  accord,  and 
without  reference  to  the  punishment.  Actions  that  have  long 
been  connected  in  the  mind  with  pains  and  penalties,  come  to 
be  contemplated  with  a  disinterested  repugnance  ;  they  seem  to 
give  pain  on  their  own  account.  This  is  a  parallel,  from  the 
side  of  pain,  of  the  acquired  attachment  to  money.  Now, 
when,  by  such  transference,  a  self-subsisting  sentiment  of 
aversion  has  been  created,  the  conscience  seems  to  be  detached 
from  all  external  sanctions,  and  to  possess  an  isolated  footing 


44:  THE  MORAL  FACULTY. 

in  the  mind.  It  has  passed  through  the  stage  of  reference  to 
authority,  and  has  become  a  law  to  itself.  But  no  conscience 
ever  arrives  at  the  independent  standing,  without  first  existing 
in  the  reflected  and  dependent  stage. 

We  must  never  omit  from  the  composition  of  the  Con- 
science the  primary  impulses  of  Self-interest  and  Sympathy, 
which  in  minds  strongly  alive  to  one  or  other,  always  count 
for  a  powerful  element  in  human  conduct,  although  for  reasons 
already  stated,  not  the  strictly  m^oral  element,  so  far  as  the 
individual  is  concerned.  They  are  adopted,  more  or  less,  by 
the  authority  imposing  the  moral  code  ;  and  when  the  two 
sources  coincide,  the  stream  is  all  the  stronger. 

(2)  Where  moral  training  is  omitted  or  greatly  neglected, 
there  is  an  absence  of  security  for  vii'tuous  conduct. 

In  no  civilized  community  is  moral  discipline  entirely 
wanting.  Although  children  may  be  neglected  by  their 
parents,  they  come  at  last  under  the  discipline  of  the  law  and 
the  public.  They  cannot  be  exempted  from  the  associations 
of  punishment  with  wrong.  But  when  these  associations  have 
not  been  early  and  sedulously  formed,  in  the  family,  in  the 
school,  and  in  the  workshop,  the  moral  sentiment  is  left  in  a 
feeble  condition.  There  still  remain  the  force  of  the  law  and 
of  public  opinion,  the  examples  of  public  punishment,  and  the 
reprobation  of  guilt.  Every  member  of  the  community  must 
witness  daily  the  degraded  condition  of  the  viciously  disposed, 
and  the  prosperity  following  on  respect  for  the  law.  No 
human  being  escapes  from  thus  contracting  moral  impressions 
to  a  very  large  amount. 

(3)  Whenever  an  action  is  associated  with  Disapprobation 
and  Punishment,  there  grows  up,  in  reference  to  it,  a  state  of 
mind  undistinguishable  from  Moral  Sentiment. 

There  are  many  instances  where  individuals  are  enjoined 
to  a  course  of  conduct  wholly  indifferent  with  regard  to 
universal  morality,  as  in  the  regulations  of  societies  formed  for 
special  purposes.  Each  member  of  the  society  has  to  conform 
to  these  regulations,  under  pain  of  forfeiting  all  the  benefits  of 
the  society,  and  of  perhaps  incurring  positive  evils.  The  code 
of  honour  among  gentlemen  is  an  example  of  these  artificial 
impositions.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  there  should  be  an 
innate  sentiment  to  perform  actions  having  nothing  to  do  with 
moral  right  and  wrong ;  yet  the  disapprobation  and  the  remorse 
following  on  a  breach  of  the  code  of  honour,  will  often  be 
greater  than  what  follows  a  breach  of  the  moral  law.  The 
constant  habit  of  regarding  with  dread  the  consequences  of 


DISAPPROBATION  CREATES  A   MORAL  SENTIMENT.      45 

violating  any  of  the  rules,  simulates  a  moral  sentiment,  on  a 
subject  unconnected  witli  morality  properly  so  called. 

The  arbitrary  ceremonial  customs  of  nations,  with  refer- 
ence to  such  points  as  ablutions,  clothing,  eating  and  abstin- 
ence from  meats, — when  rendered  obligatory  by  the  force  of 
penalties,  occupy  exactly  the  same  place  in  the  mind  as  the 
principles  of  moral  right  and  wrong.  The  same  form  of  dread 
attaches  to  the  consequences  of  neglect ;  the  same  remorse  is 
felt  by  the  individual  offender.  The  exposure  of  the  naked 
person  is  as  much  abhorred  as  telling  a  lie.  The  Turkish 
woman  exposing  her  face,  is  no  less  conscience-smitten  than 
if  she  murdered  her  child.  There  is  no  act,  however  trivial, 
that  cannot  be  raised  to  the  position  of  a  moral  act,  by  the 
imperative  of  society. 

Still  more  sti  iking  is  the  growth  of  a  moral  sentiment  in 
connexion  with  such  usages  as  the  Hindoo  suttee.  It  is  known 
that  the  Hindoo  widow,  it' prevented  from  burning  herself  with 
her  husband's  corpse,  often  feels  all  the  pangs  of  remorse,  and 
leads  a  life  of  misery  and  self-humiliation.  The  habitual  in- 
culcation of  this  duty  by  society,  the  penalty  of  disgrace 
attached  to  its  omission,  operate  to  implant  a  sentiment  in 
every  respect  analogous  to  the  strongest  moral  sentitnent. 


PAET   11. 

THE  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS. 

The  first  important  name  in  Ancient  Ethical  Philosophy  is 
SOKRATES.         [469-399  B.C.] 

For  the  views  of  Sokrates,  as  well  as  his  method,*  we  have 
first  the  Memokabilia  of  Xenophon,  and  next  such  of  the 
Platonic  Compositions,  as  are  judged,  by  comparison  with  the 
MemorabiHa,  to  keep  closest  to  the  real  Sokrates.  Ot  these, 
the  chief  are  the  Apology  of  Sokrates,  the  Kriton  and  the 
Phjedgn. 

The  '  Memorabilia '  was  composed  by  Xenophon,  expressly 
to  vindicate  Sokrates  against  the  accusations  and  unfavourable 
opinious  that  led  to  his  execution.  The  '  Apology  '  is  Plato's 
account  of  his  method,  and  also  sets  forth  his  moral  attitude. 
The  '  Kriton '  describes  a  conversation  between  him  and  his 
friend  Kriton,  in  prison,  two  days  bel'ore  his  death,  wherein, 
in  reply  to  the  entreaties  of  his  friends  generally  that  he 
should  make  his  escape  from  prison,  he  declares  his  determi- 
nation to  abide  by  the  laws  of  the  Athenian  State.  Inasmuch 
as,  in  the  Apology,  he  had  seemed  to  set  his  private  convictions 
above  the  public  authority,  he  here  presents  another  side  of 
his  character.  The  '  Pha3don '  contains  the  conversation  on 
*  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul '  just  before  his  execution. 

The  Ethical  bearings  of  the  Philosophical  method,  the 
Doctrines,  and  the  Life  of  Sokrates.  are  these : — 

The  direction  he  gave  to  philosophical  enquiry,  was  ex- 
pressed in  the  saying  that  he  brought  '  Philosophy  down  from 
Heaven  to  Earth.'  His  subjects  were  Man  and  Society.  He 
entered  a  protest  against  the  enquiries  of  the  early  philosophers 

•  See,  on  the  method  of  Sokrates,  Appendix  A. 


DOCTRINE   THAT   VIRTUE   IS   KNOWLEDGE.  47 

as  to  the  constitution  of  the  Kosmos,  the  nature  of  the  Heavenly 
Bodies,  the  theory  of  Winds  and  Storms.  Ho  called  these 
Divine  things ;  and  in  a  great  degree  useless,  if  understood. 
The  Human  relations  of  life,  the  varieties  of  conduct  of  men 
towards  each  other  in  all  capacities,  were  alone  within  the  com- 
pass of  knowledge,  and  capable  of  yielding  fruit.  In  short,  his 
tarn  of  mind  was  thoroughly  practical,  we  might  say  utilitarian. 

I. — He  gave  a  foundation  and  a  shape  to  Ethical  Science, 
by  insisting  on  its  practical  character,  and  by  showing  that, 
like  the  other  arts  of  life,  it  had  an  End,  and  a  Theory  from 
which  flows  the  precepts  or  means.  The  End,  which  would 
be  the  Standard,  was  not  stated  by  him,  and  hardly  even  by 
Plato,  otherwise  than  in  general  language ;  the  Summum 
Bonum  had  not  as  yet  become  a  matter  of  close  debate.  '  The 
art  of  dealing  with  human  beings,'  'the  art  of  behaving  in 
society,'  '  the  science  of  human  happiness,'  were  various 
modes  of  expressing  the  final  end  of  conduct.*  Sokrates 
clearly  indicated  the  difference  between  an  unscientific  and  a 
scientific  art ;  the  one  is  an  incommunicable  knack  or  dexterity, 
the  other  is  founded  on  theoretical  principles. 

II. — Notwithstanding  his  professing  ignorance  of  what 
virtue  is,  Sokrates  had  a  definite  doctrine  with  reference  to 
Ethics,  which  we  may  call  his  Psychology  of  the  subject. 
This  was  the  doctrine  that  resolves  Virtue  into  Knowledge, 
Vice  into  Ignorance  or  Folly.  '  To  do  right  was  the  only 
way  to  impart  happiness,  or  the  least  degree  of  unhappiness 
compatible  with  any  given  situation :  now,  this  was  precisely 
what  every  one  wished  for  and  aimed  at — only  that  many 
persons,  from  ignorance,  took  the  wrong  road;  and  no  man 
was  wise  enough  always  to  take  the  right.  But  as  no  man 
was  willingly  his  own  enemy,  so  no  man  ever  did  wrong 
•willingly ;  it  was  because  he  was  not  fully  or  correctly  in- 
formed of  the  consequences  of  his  own  actions ;  so  that  the 
proper  remedy  to  apply,  was  enlarged  teaching  of  conse- 
quences and  improved  judgment.  To  make  him  willing  to 
be  taught,  the  only  condition  required  was  to  make  him  con- 
scious of  his  own  ignorance  ;  the  want  of  which  consciousness 
was  the  real  cause  both  of  indocility  and  of  vice '  (Grote).    This 

*  In  setting  forth  the  Ethical  End,  the  language  of  Sokrates  was  not 
always  consistent.  He  sometimes  stated  it.  as  if  it  included  an  indepen- 
dent reference  to  the  happiness  of  others ;  at  other  times,  he  speaks  as  if 
the  end  was  the  agent's  own  haj>piness,  to  which  the  happiness  of  others 
was  the  greatest  and  most  essential  means.  The  first  view,  although  not 
always  adhered  to,  prevails  m  Xenophon ;  the  second  appears  most  in 
Plato. 


48  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — SOKRATES. 

doctrine  grew  out  of  his  favourite  analogy  between  social 
duty  and  a  profession  or  trade.  When  the  artizan  goes 
wrong,  it  is  usually  from  pure  ignorance  or  incapacity ;  he  is 
wilh'ng  to  do  good  work  if  be  is  able. 

III. — The  SuMMUM  BONUM  with  Sokrates  was  Well-doing. 
He  had  no  ideal  of  pursuit  for  man  apart  from  virtue,  or  what 
he  esteemed  virtue — the  noble  and  the  praiseworthy.  This 
was  the  elevated  point  of  view  maintained  alike  by  him  and 
by  Plato,  and  common  to  them  with  the  ideal  of  modern  ages. 

Well-doing  consisted  in  doing  well  whatever  a  man  under- 
took. *  The  best  man,'  he  said,  'and  the  most  beloved  by 
the  gods,  is  he  that,  as  a  husbandman,  performs  well  the  duties 
of  husbandry  ;  as  a  surgeon,  the  duties  of  the  medical  art ;  in 
political  life,  his  duty  towards  the  commonwealth.  The  man 
that  does  nothing  well  is  neither  useful  nor  agreeable  to  the 
gods.'  And  as  knowledge  is  essential  to  all  undertakings, 
knowledge  is  the  one  thing  needfal.  This  exclusive  regard 
to  knowledge  was  his  one-sidedness  as  a  moral  theorist ;  but 
he  did  not  consistently  exclude  all  reference  to  the  voluntary 
control  of  appetite  and  passion. 

IV. — He  inculcated  Practical  Precepts  of  a  self-denying 
kind,  intended  to  curb  the  excesses  of  human  desire  and  am- 
bition. He  urged  the  pleasures  of  self-improvement  and  of 
duty  against  indulgences,  honours,  and  worldly  advancement. 
In  the  'Apology,'  he  states  it  as  the  second  aim  of  his  life 
(after  imparting  the  shock  of  conscious  ignorance)  to  reproach 
men  for  pursuing  wealth  and  glory  more  than  wisdom  and 
virtue.  In  '  Kriton,'  he  lays  it  down  that  we  are  never  to 
act  wrongly  or  unjustly,  although  others  are  unjust  to  us. 
And,  in  his  own  life,  he  furnished  an  illustrious  example  of  his 
teaching.  The  same  lofty  strain  was  taken  up  by  Plato,  and 
repeated  in  most  of  the  subsequent  Ethical  schools. 

V. — His  Ethical  Theory  extended  itself  to  Government, 
where  he  applied  his  analogy  of  the  special  arts.  The  legiti- 
mate King  was  he  that  knew  how  to  govern  well. 

VI. — The  connexion  in  the  mind  of  Sokrates  between 
Ethics  and  Theology  was  very  slender. 

In  the  first  place,  his  distinction  of  Divine  and  Human 
things,  was  an  exclusion  of  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  gods 
from  human  affairs,  or  from  those  things  that  constituted  the 
ethical  end. 

But  in  the  next  place,  he  always  preserved  a  pious  and  re- 
verential tone  of  mind;  and  considered  tliat,  after  patient  study, 
men   should  still  consult  the  oracles,  bj  which  the  gods,  ir 


ETHICAL   DIALOGUES   OF   PLATO.  49 

cases  of  difficulty,  graciously  signified  their  intentions,  and 
their  beneficent  care  of  the  race.  Then,  the  practice  of  well- 
doing was  prompted  by  reference  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
gods.  In  so  far  as  the  gods  administered  the  world  in  a  right 
spirit,  they  would  show  favour  to  the  virtuous. 

PLATO.  [427-347  b.c] 

The  Ethical  Doctrines  of  Plato  are  scattered  through  his 
various  Dialogues  ;  and  incorporated  with  his  philosophical 
method,  with  his  theory  of  Ideas,  and  with  his  theories  of 
man  and  of  society. 

From  Sokrates,  Plato  derived  Dialectics,  or  the  method  of 
Debate  ;  he  embodied  all  his  views  in  imaginary  conversa- 
tions, or  Dialogues,  suggested  by,  and  resembling  the  real 
conversations  of  Sokrates.  And  farther,  in  imitation  of  his 
master,  he  carried  on  his  search  after  truth  under  the  guise  of 
ascertaining  the  exact  meaning  or  definition  of  leading  terms  ; 
as  Virtue,  Courage,  Holiness,  Temperance,  Justice,  Law, 
Beauty,  Knowledge,  Rhetoric,  &c. 

We  shall  first  pass  in  review  the  chief  Dialogues  contain- 
ing Ethical  doctrines. 

The  Apology,  Kriton,  and  Euthyphron  (we  follow  Mr. 
Grote's  order)  may  be  passed  by  as  belonging  more  to  his 
master  than  to  himself;  moreover,  everything  contained  in 
them  will  be  found  recurring  in  other  dialogues. 

The  Alkibiades  I.  is  a  good  specimen  of  the  Sokratic  man- 
ner. It  brings  out  the  loose  discordant  notions  of  Just  and 
V 11  just  prevailing  in  the  community ;  sets  forth  that  the  Just 
is  also  honourable,  good,  and  expedient — the  cause  of  happi- 
ness to  the  just  man  ;  urges  the  importance  of  Self-know- 
ledge ;  and  maintains  that  the  conditions  of  happiness  are  not 
wealth  and  power,  but  Justice  and  Temperance. 

Alkibiades  II.  brings  out  a  Platonic  position  as  to  the 
Good.  There  are  a  number  of  things  that  are  good,  as  health, 
money,  family,  but  there  is  farther  required  the  skill  to  apply 
these  in  proj^er  measure  to  the  supreme  end  of  life.  All 
knowledge  is  not  valuable ;  there  may  be  cases  where  ignor- 
ance is  better.  What  we  are  principally  interested  in  know- 
ing is  the  Good,  the  Best,  the  Profitable.  The  man  of  much 
learning,  without  this,  is  like  a  vessel  tossed  on  the  sea  with- 
out a  pilot.* 

*  •  What  Plato  here  calls  the  Knowledge  of  Good,  or  Reason, — the  just 
discrimination  and  comparative  appreciation,  of  Ends  and  Means — ap- 
pears in  the  Politikus  and  the  Euthydernus,  under  the  title  of  the  Regal  or 


50  ETHIC A.L   SYSTEMS — PLATO. 

In  HipPiAS  Minor,  appears  an  extreme  statement  of  the 
doctrine,  common  to  Sokrates  and  Plato,  identifying  virtne 
■with  knowledge,  or  glv^ing  exclusive  attention  to  the  intel- 
lectual element  of  conduct.  It  is  urged  that  a  mendacious 
person,  able  to  tell  the  truth  if  he  chooses,  is  better  than  one 
unable  to  tell  it,  although  wishing  to  do  so ;  the  knowledge  is 
of  greater  worth  than  the  good  disposition. 

In  Minos  (or  the  Definition  of  Laiv)  he  refuses  to  accept 
the  decree  of  the  state  as  a  law,  but  postulates  the  decision  of 
some  Ideal  wise  man.  This  is  a  following  oat  of  the  Sokratic 
analogy  of  the  professions,  to  a  purely  ideal  demand ;  the  wise 
man  is  never  producible.  In  many  dialogues  (Kriton,  Laches, 
&c.)  the  decision  of  some  Expert  is  sought,  as  "a  physician  is 
consulted  in  disease ;  but  the  Moral  expert  is  unknown  to  any 
actual  communitry. 

In  Laches,  the  question  *what  is  Virtue?'  is  put;  it  is 
argued  under  the  special  virtue  of  Courage.  In  a  truly 
Sokratic  dialogue,  Sokrates  is  in  search  of  a  definition  of. 
Courage;  as  happens  in  the  search  dialogues,  there  is  no» 
definite  result,  bnt  the  drift  of  the  discussion  is  to  makei 
courage  a  mode  of  intelligence,  and  to  resolve  it  into  thei 
grand  desideratum  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil — 
belonging  to  the  One  Wise  Man. 

Charmides  discusses  Temperance.  As  usual  with  Plato  ini 
discussing  the  virtues,  with  a  view  to  their  Logical  definition, , 
he  presupposes  that  this  is  something  beneficial  and  good.* 
Various  definitions  are  given  of  Temperance ;  and  all  are  re-> 
jected ;  but  the  dialogue  falls  into  the  same  track  as  the? 
Laches,  in  putting  forward  the  supreme  science  of  good  and! 
evil.  It  is  a  happy  example  of  the  Sokratic  manner  and  par- 
Political  Art,  as  employing  or  directins^  the  results  of  all  other  arts, 
which  are  considered  as  subordinate  :  in  the  Protagoras,  under  the  title 
of  art  of  calculation  or  mensuration :  in  the  Philebus,  as  measure  and 
proportion  :  in  the  PhaeJius  (in  regard  to  rhetoric)  as  the  art  of  turning 
to  account,  for  the  main  purpose  of  persuasion,  all  the  special  processes, 
stratagems,  decorations,  &c.,  imparted  by  professional  masters.  In  the 
Republic,  it  is  personified  in  the  few  venerable  Elders  who  constitute  the 
Keason  of  the  society,  and  whose  directions  all  the  rest  (Guardians  andi 
Producers)  arc  bound  impliciLly  to  follow  :  the  virtue  of  the  subordinates; 
consisting  in  this  implicit  obedience.  In  the  Leges,  it  is  defined  as  the 
complete  subjection  in  the  mind,  of  pleasures  and  pains  to  right  Reason, 
without  which,  no  special  aptitudes  are  worth  having.  In  the  Xeno-- 
phontic  Memorabilia,  it  stands  as  a  Sokratic  authority  under  the  title  of  i 
Sophrosyne  or  Temperance :  and  the  Profitable  is  declared  identical  wi*;!!! 
the  Good,  as  the  directing  and  limiting  principle  for  all  human  pursuittli 
and  proceedings.'  (Grote's  Plato,  I.,  362.) 


IS    VIRTUE   TEACHABLE?  51 

pose,  of  exposing  the  conceit  of  knowledge,  the  fancy  that 
people  understaud  the  meaning  of  the  general  terms  habitually 
employed. 

Lysis  on  Friend^hijJ,  ov  Love,  might  be  expected  to  fur- 
nish some  ethical  openings,  but  it  is  rather  a  piece  of  dialectic, 
^\ithout  result,  farther  than  to  impart  the  consciousness  of 
iirnorance.  If  it  suggests  anything  positive,  it  is  the  Idea  of 
Good,  as  the  ultimate  end  of  affection.  The  subject  is  one  of 
special  interest  in  ancient  Etl;  cs,  as  being  one  of  the  aspects 
of  Benevolent  sentiment  iu  the  Pagan  world.  In  Aristotle 
we  first  find  a  definite  handling  of  it. 

Me::sOX  may  be  considered  as  pre-eminently  ethical  in  its 
design.  It  is  expressly  devoted  to  the  question — Is  Virtue 
teuchahle?  Sokrates  as  usual  confesses  that  he  does  not 
know  what  virtue  is.  He  will  not  accept  a  catalogue  of  the 
admitted  virtues  as  a  definition  of  virtue,  and  presses  for  some 
common  or  defining  attribute.  He  advances  on  his  own  side 
his  usual  doctrine  that  virtue  is  Kjiowledge,  or  a  mode  of 
Knowledge,  and  that  it  is  good  and  profitable  ;  which  is  merely 
an  iteration  of  the  Science  of  good  and  evil.  He  distinguishes 
virtue  from  Right  Opinion,  a  sort  of  quasi-knowledge,  the 
knowledge  of  esteemed  and  useful  citizens,  which  cannot  be 
the  highest  knowledge,  since  these  citizens  fail  to  impart  it 
even  to  their  own  sons. 

In  this  dialogue,  we  have  Plato's  view  of  Immortality, 
which  comprises  both  pre-exist  ence  and  post-existence.  The 
pre-existence  is  used  to  explain  the  derivation  of  general 
notions,  or  Ideas,  which  are  antecedent  to  the  perceptions  of 
sense. 

In  Protagoeas,  we  find  one  of  the  most  important  of  the 
ethical  discussions  of  Plato.  It  proceeds  from  the  same  ques- 
tion.— Is  virtue  teachable  ? — Sokrates  as  usual  expressing  his 
doubts  on  the  point.  Protagora^s  then  delivers  a  splendid 
harangue,  showing  how  virtue  is  taught — namely,  by  the 
practice  of  society  in  approving,  condemning,  rewarding, 
punishing  the  actions  of  individuals.  From  childhood  upward, 
iiverj  human  being  in  society  is  a  witness  to  the  moral  pro- 
cedure of  society,  and  by  degrees  both  knows,  and  conforms  to, 
the  maxims  of  virtue  of  the  society.  Protagoras  himself  as  a 
professed  teacher,  or  sophist,  can  improve  but  little  upon  this 
habitual  inculcation.  Sokrates,  at  the  end  of  the  harangue, 
puts  in  his  usual  questions  tending  to  bring  out  the  essence  or 
definition  of  virtue,  and  soon  drives  Protagoras  into  a  corner, 
bringing  him  to  admit  a  view  nowhere  else  developed  in  Plato, 


52  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS -PLATO. 

that  PleasTire  is  the  only  pfood,  Pain  the  only  evil,  and  tliat 
the  science  of  Good  and  Evil  consists  in  Measuring,  and  in 
choosing  between  conflicting  pleasures  and  pains — preferring 
the  greater  pleasure  to  the  less,  the  less  pain  to  the  greater. 
For  example,  courage  is  a  wise  estimate  of  things  terrible  and 
things  not  terrible.  In  consistency  with  the  doctrine  that 
Knowledge  is  virtue,  it  is  mauitained  here  as  elsewhere,  that 
a  man  knowing  good  and  evil  must  act  upon  that  knowledge, 
Plato  often  repeats  his  theory  of  Measurement,  but  never 
again  specifically  intimates  that  the  things  to  be  measured  are 
pleasures  and  pains.  And  neither  here  nor  elsewhere,  does  he 
suppose  the  virtuous  man  taking  directly  into  his  calculation 
the  pleasures  and  pains  of  other  persons. 

GoRGiAS,  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  the  dialogues  in 
point  of  composition,  is  also  ethical,  but  at  variance  with  the 
Protagoras,  and  more  in  accordance  with  Plato's  predominating 
views.  The  professed  subject  is  Rhetoric,  which,  as  an  art, 
Sokrates  professes  to  hold  in  contempt.  The  dialogue  begins 
with  the  position  that  men  are  prompted  by  the  desire  of  good, 
but  proceeds  to  the  great  Platonic  paradox,  that  it  is  a  greater 
evil  to  do  wrong  than  to  suffer  wrong.  The  criminal  labours 
tinder  a  mental  distemper,  and  the  best  thing  that  can  happen 
to  him,  is  to  be  punished  that  so  he  may  be  cured.  The 
•unpunished  wrong-doer  is  more  miserable  than  if  he  were 
punished.  Sokrates  in  this  dialogue  maintains,  in  opposition 
to  the  thesis  of  Protagoras,  that  pleasure  is  not  the  same  as 
good,  that  there  are  bad  pleasures  and  good  pains ;  and  a 
skilful  adviser,  one  versed  in  the  science  of  good  and  evil, 
must  discriminate  between  them.  He  does  not  mean  that 
those  pleasures  only  are  bad  that  bring  an  overplus  of  future 
pains,  which  would  be  in  accordance  with  the  previous 
dialogue.  The  sentiment  of  the  dialogue  is  ascetic  and  self- 
denying.*  Order  or  Discipline  is  inculcated,  not  as  a  means 
to  an  end,  but  as  an  end  in  itself. 

*  *  Indeed  there  is  nothing  more  remarkable  in  the  Gorgias,  than  the 
manner  in  which  Sokrates  nut  only  condemns  the  unmeasured,  exorbitant, 
maleficent  desires,  but  also  depreciates  and  degrades  all  the  actualities  of 
life — all  the  recreative  and  elegant  arts,  including  music  and  poetry, 
tragic  as  well  as  dithyrambic — all  provision  for  the  most  essential  wants, 
all  protection  against  particular  sufferings  and  dangers,  even  all  service 
rendered  to  another  person  in  the  way  of  relief  or  of  rescue — all  the  effec- 
tive maintenance  of  public  ori>anized  force,  such  as  ships,  docks,  walls, 
arms,  &c.  Immediate  satisfaction  or  relief,  and  those  who  confer  it,  are 
treated  with  contempt,  and  presented  as  in  hostility  to  the  perfection  of 
the  mental  structure.    And  it  is  in  this  point  of  view,  that  various  Platoaio 


PLEASURE   AND   PAIN.  53 

The  PoLiTiKUS  is  OQ  the  Art  of  G-overnment,  and  gives  the 
Platonic  beau  ideal  of  the  One  competent  person,  governing 
absolutely,  by  virtue  of  his  scientific  knowledge,  and  aiming  at 
the  good  and  improvement  of  the  governed.  This  is  merely 
another  illustration  of  the  Sokratic  ideal — a  despotism,  anointed 
by  supreme  good  intentions,  and  by  an  ideal  skill.  The  Re- 
public is  an  enlargement  of  the  lessons  of  the  Politikus  with- 
out the  dialectic  discussion. 

The  postulate  of  the  One  Wise  man  is  repeated  in 
Kratylps,  on  the  unpromising  subject  of  Language  or  the 
invention  of  Names. 

The  Philebus  has  a  decidedly  ethical  character.  It  pro- 
pounds for  enquiry  the  Good,  the  Summum  Bonum.  This  is 
denied  to  be  mere  pleasure,  and  the  denial  is  enforced  by 
Sokrates  challenging  his  opyjouent  to  choose  the  lot  of  an 
ecstatic  oyster.  As  usual,  good  must  be  related  to  Intelligence ; 
and  the  Dialogue  gives  a  long  disquisition  upon  the  One  and 
the  Many,  the  Theory  of  Ideas,  the  Determinate  and  the  Inde- 
terminate. Good  is  a  compound  of  Pleasure  and  Intelligence, 
the  last  predominating.  Pleasure  is  the  Indeterminate,  requir- 
ing the  Determinate  (Knowledge)  to  regulate  it.  This  is 
merely  another  expression  for  the  doctrine  of  Measure,  and 
for  the  common  saying,  that  the  Passions  must  be  controlled 
by  Heason.  There  is,  also,  in  the  dialogue,  a  good  deal  on 
the  Psychology  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  Pleasure  is  the  funda- 
mental harmony  of  the  system ;  Pain  its  disturbance.  Bodily 
Pleasure  pre-supposes  pain  [true  only  of  some  pleasures]. 
Mental  pleasures  may  be  without  previous  pain,  and  are  there- 
fore pure  pleasures-  A  life  of  Intelligence  is  conceivable 
without  either  pain  or  pleasure  ;  this  is  the  choice  of  the  Wise 
man,  and  is  the  nature  of  the  gods.  Desire  is  a  mixed  state, 
and  comprehends  body  and  mind.  Much  stress  is  laid  on  the 
moderate  and  tranquil  pleasures ;  the  intense  pleasures,  coveted 
by  mankind,  belong  to  a  distempered  rather  than  a  healthy 
state  ;  they  are  false  and  delusive.  Pleasure  is,  by  its  nature, 
a  change  or  transition,  and  cannot  be  a  supreme  end.  The 
m,ixture  of  Pleasure  and  Intelligence  is  to  be  adjusted  by  the 
all-important  principle  of  Measure  or  Proportion,  which  con- 
nects the  Good  with  the  BeautifuL 

commentators  extol  in  an  especial  manner  the  Gorgias:  as  recognizing 
an  Idea  of  Good  superhuman  and  supernatural,  radicnlly  disparate  from 
pleasures  and  pains  of  any  human  being,  and  incommensurable  with  them ; 
an  Universal  Idea,  which,  though  it  is  supposed  to  east  a  distant  light 
upon  its  particulars,  is  separated  from  them  by  an  incalculable  space,  and 
is  discernible  only  by  the  Platonic  telescope.'  (Grote,  Gorgias.) 


54  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — PLATO. 

A  decided  asceticism  is  the  efcliical  tendency  of  this  dialogtie. 
It  is  markedly  opposed  to  the  view  of  the  Protagoras.  Still 
greater  is  the  opposition  between  it  and  the  two  Erotic 
dialogues,  Phtedrus  and  Symposium,  where  Bonuvi  and 
Pidchrum  are  attained  in  the  pursuit  of  an  ecstatic  and  over- 
whelming personal  affection. 

The  Republic  starts  with  the  question — what  is  Justice  ? 
and,  in  answering  it,  provides  the  scheme  of  a  model  Republic. 
Book  I.  is  a  Sokratic  colloquy,  where  one  speaker,  on  being 
inteiTogated,  defines  Justice  as  'rendering  to  every  man  his 
due,'  and  afterwards  amends  it  to  '  doing  good  to  friends,  evil 
to  enemies.*  Another  gives  '  the  right  ot  the  strongest.'  A 
third  maintains  that  Injustice  by  itself  is  profitable  to  the 
doer ;  but,  as  it  is  an  evil  to  society  in  general,  men  make  laws 
against  it  and  punish  it ;  in  consequence  of  which,  Justice  is 
the  more  profitable.  Sokrates,  in  opposition,  undertakes  to 
prove  that  Justice  is  good  in  itself,  ensuring  the  happiness  of 
the  doer  by  its  intrinsic  effect  on  his  mind ;  and  irrespective 
of  exemption  from  the  penalties  of  injustice.  He  reaches 
this  result  by  assimilating  an  individual  to  a  state.  Justice  is 
shown  to  be  good  in  the  entire  city,  and  by  analogy  it  is  also 
good  in  the  individual.  He  accordingly  proceeds  to  construct 
his  ideal  commonwealth.  In  the  course  of  this  construction 
many  ethical  views  crop  out. 

The  state  must  prescribe  the  religious  belief,  and  allow  no 
compositions  at  variance  with  it.  The  gods  must  always  be 
set  forth  as  the  causes  of  good ;  they  must  never  be  repre- 
sented as  the  authors  of  evil,  nor  as  practising  deceit.  Neither 
is  it  to  be  allowed  to  represent  men  as  unjust,  yet  happy ;  or 
just,  and  yet  miserable.  The  poetic  representation  of  bad  cha- 
racters is  also  forbidden.  The  musical  training  is  to  be  adapted 
for  disposing  the  mind  to  the  perception  of  Beauty,  whence  it 
becomes  qualified  to  recognize  the  other  virtues.  Useful  fictions 
are  to  be  diffused,  v.^ithout  regard  to  truth.  This  pious  fraud 
is  openly  recommended  by  Plato. 

The  division  of  the  human  mind  into  (1)  Reason  or 
Intelligence;  (2)  Energy,  Courage,  Spirit,  or  the  Military 
Virtue;  and  (3)  Many-headed  Appetite,  all  in  mutual  counter- 
play — is  transferred  to  the  State,  each  of  the  three  parts  being 
represented  by  one  of  the  political  orders  or  divisions  of  the 
community.  The  happiness  of  the  man  and  the  happiness  of  the 
commonwealth  are  attained  in  the  same  way,  namely,  by  rea- 
lizing the  four  virtues — Wisdom,  Courage,  Temperance,  Jus- 
tice J  with  this  condition,  that  Wisdom,  or  Reason,  is  sough fe 


PLATONIC   REPUBLIC.  65 

only  in  the  Ruling  caste,  the  Elders ;  Courage,  or  Energy, 
only  in  the  second  caste,  the  Soldiers  or  Guardians ;  while 
Temperance  and  Justice  (meaning  almost  the  same  thing)  must 
inhere  alike  in  all  the  three  classes,  and  be  the  only  thing  ex- 
pected in  the  third,  the  Working  Multitude. 

If  it  be  now  asked,  what  and  where  is  Justice  ?  the  answer 
is — 'every  man  to  attend  to  his  own  business.'  Injustice 
occurs  when  any  one  abandons  his  post,  or  meddles  with  what 
does  not  belong  to  him  ;  and  more  especially  when  any  one  of 
a  lower  division  aspires  to  the  function  of  a  higher.  Such  is 
Justice  for  the  city,  and  such  is  it  in  the  individual ;  the  higher 
faculty — Reason,  must  control  the  two  lower — Courage  and 
Appetite.  Justice  is  thus  a  sort  of  harmony  or  balance  of  the 
mental  powers  ;  it  is  to  the  mind  what  health  is  to  the  body. 
Health  is  the  greatest  good,  sickness  the  greatest  evil,  of  the 
body  ;  so  is  Justice  of  the  mind. 

It  is  an  essential  of  the  Platonic  Republic  that,  among  the 
guardians  at  least,  the  sexual  arrangements  should  be  under 
public  regulation,  and  the  monopoly  of  one  woman  by  one  man 
forbidden  :  a  regard  to  the  breed  of  the  higher  caste  of  citizens 
requires  the  magistrate  to  see  that  the  best  couples  are  brought 
together,  and  to  refuse  to  rear  the  inferior  offspring  of  ill- 
assorted  connexions.  The  number  of  births  is  also  to  be 
regulated. 

In  carrying  on  war,  special  maxims  of  clemency  are  to  be 
observed  towards  Hellenic  enemies. 

The  education  of  the  Guardians  must  be  philosophical ;  it 
is  for  them  to  rise  to  the  Idea  of  the  good,  to  master  the 
science  of  Good  and  Evil ;  they  must  be  emancipated  from  the 
notion  that  Pleasure  is  the  good.  To  indicate  the  route  to  this 
attainment  Plato  gives  his  theory  of  cognition  generally — the 
theory  of  Ideas  ; — and  indicates  (darkly)  how  these  sublime 
generalities  are  to  be  reached. 

The  Ideal  Commonwealth  supposed  established,  is  doomed 
to  degradation  and  decay  ;  passing  through  Timocracy, 
Oligarchy,  Democracy,  to  Despotism,  with  a  corresponding 
declension  of  happiness.  The  same  varieties  may  be  traced 
in  the  Individual ;  the  '  despotized  '  mind  is  the  acme  of  Injus- 
tice and  consequent  misery. 

The  comparative  value  of  Pleasures  is  discussed.  The 
pleasures  of  philosophy,  or  wisdom  (those  of  Reason),  are 
alone  true  and  pure  ;  the  pleasures  corresponding  to  the  two 
other  parts  of  the  mind  are  inferior  ;  Love  of  Honour  (from 
Courage  or  Energy),  and  Love  of  Money  (Appetite).     The 


56  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— PLATO. 

well-ordered  mind — Justice — is  above  all  things  the  source  of 
happiness.  Apart  from  all  consequences  of  Justice,  this  is 
true ;  the  addition  of  the  natural  results  only  enhances  the 
strength  of  the  position. 

In  Tim  Jius,  Plato  repeats  the  doctrine  that  wickedness  is  to 
t!ie  mind  what  disease  is  to  the  body.  The  soul  suffers  from 
two  distempers,  madness  and  ignorance ;  the  man  under  pas- 
sionate heat  is  not  wicked  voluntarily.  No  man  is  bad  wil- 
lingly ;  but  only  from  some  evil  habit  of  body,  the  effect  of 
bad  bringing-up  [very  much  the  view  of  Robert  Owen]. 

The  long  treatise  called  the  Laws,  being  a  modified  scheme 
of  a  Republic,  goes  over  the  same  ground  with  more  detail. 
We  give  the  chief  ethical  points.  It  is  the  purpose  of  the  law- 
giver to  bring  about  happiness,  and  to  provide  all  good  things 
divine  and  human.  The  divine  things  are  the  cardinal  virtues 
— Wisdom,  Justice,  Temperance,  Courage;  the  human  are 
the  leading  personal  advantages — Health,  Beauty,  Strength, 
Activity,  Wealth.  He  requires  the  inculcation  of  self-com- 
mand, and  a  training  in  endurance.  The  moral  and  religious 
feelings  are  to  be  guided  in  early  youth,  by  the  influence  of 
Poetry  and  the  other  Fine  Arts,  in  which,  as  before,  a  strin- 
gent censorship  is  to  be  exercised  ;  the  songs  and  dances  are 
all  to  be  publicly  authorized.  The  ethical  doctrine  that  the 
just  man  is  happy  and  the  unjust  miserable,  is  to  be  preached ; 
and  every  one  prohibited  from  contradicting  it.  Of  all  the 
titles  to  command  in  society.  Wisdom  is  the  highest,  although 
policy  may  require  it  to  be  conjoined  with  some  of  the  others 
(Birth,  Age,  Strength,  Accident,  &c.).  It  is  to  be  a  part  of 
the  constitution  to  provide  public  exhortations,  or  sermons, 
for  inculcating  virtue  ;  Plato  having  now  passed  into  an  op- 
posite phase  as  to  the  value  of  Rhetoric,  or  continuous  address. 
The  family  is  to  be  allowed  in  its  usual  form,  but  with  re- 
straints on  the  age  of  marriage,  on  the  choice  of  the  parties, 
and  on  the  increase  of  the  number  of  the  population.  Sexual 
intercourse  is  to  be  as  far  as  possible  confined  to  persons 
legally  married;  those  departing  from  this  rule  are,  at  all 
events,  to  observe  secresy.  The  slaves  are  not  to  be  of  the 
same  race  as  the  masters.  As  regards  punishment,  there  is  a 
great  complication,  owing  to  the  author's  theory  that  wicked- 
ness is  not  properly  voluntary.  Much  of  the  harm  done  by 
persons  to  others  is  unintentional  or  involuntary,  and  is  to  be 
made  good  by  reparation.  For  the  loss  of  balance  or  self- 
control,  making  the  essence  of  injustice,  there  must  be  a  penal 
and  educational  discipline,  suited  to  cure  the  moral  distemper ; 


SUMMARY   OF   PLATO's   ETHICS.  67 

not  for  the  sake  of  the  past,  which  cannot  be  recalled,  but  of 
the  future.  Under  cover  of  this  theorj,  the  punishments  are 
abundantly  severe ;  and  the  crimes  include  Heresy,  for  wkich 
there  is  a  f^radation  of  penalties  terminating  in  death. 

We  may  now  summarize  the  Ethics  of  Plato,  under  the 
general  scheme  as  follows  : — 

I. — The  Ethical  Standard,  or  criterion  of  moral  Right  and 
Wrong.  This  we  have  seen  is,  ultimately,  the  Science  of  Good 
and  Evil,  as  determined  by  a  Scientific  or  Wise  man  ;  the 
Idea  of  the  Good,  which  only  a  philosopher  can  ascend  to. 
Plato  gave  no  credit  to  the  maxims  of  the  existing  society ; 
these  were  wholly  unscientific. 

It  is  obvious  that  this  vague  and  indeterminate  standard 
would  settle  nothing  practically;  no  one  can  tell  what  it  is. 
It  is  only  of  value  as  belonging  to  a  very  exalted  and  poetic 
conception  of  virtue,  something  that  raises  the  imagination 
above  common  life  into  a  sphere  of  transcendental  existence, 

II.— The  Psychology  of  Ethics, 

1.  As  to  the  Faculty  of  discerning  Right.  This  is  im- 
plied in  the  foregoing  statement  of  the  cnterion.  It  is  the 
Cognitive  or  Intellectual  power.  In  the  definite  position 
taken  up  in  Protagoras,  it  is  the  faculty  of  Measuring  plea- 
sures against  one  another  and  against  pains.  In  other  dia- 
logues, measure  is  still  the  important  aspect  of  the  process, 
although  the  things  to  be  measured  are  not  given, 

2.  As  regards  the  Av'dl.  The  theory  that  vice,  if  not  the 
result  of  ignorance,  is  a  form  of  madness,  an  uncontrollable 
fury,  a  mental  distemper,  gives  a  peculiar  rendering  of  the 
nature  of  man's  Will.  It  is  a  kind  of  Necessity,  not  exactly 
corresponding,  however,  with  the  modem  doctrine  of  that  name. 

3.  Disinterested  Sentiment  is  not  directly  and  plainly  re- 
cognized by  Plato.  His  highest  virtue  is  self- regarding ;  a 
concern  for  the  Health  of  the  SouL 

IIL — On  the  Bonum,  or  Summum  Bonum,  Plato  is  ascetic 
and  self-denying.  1.  We  have  seen  that  in  Philebus,  Pleasure 
is  not  good,  unless  united  with  Knowled^  or  Intelligence  ; 
and  the  greater  the  Intelligence,  the  higher  the  pleasure. 
That  the  highest  happiness  of  man  is  the  pursuit  of  truth  or 
Philosophy,  was  common  to  Plato  and  to  Aristotle. 

2.  Happiness  is  attainable  only  through  Justice  or  Yirtne. 
Justice  is  declared  to  be  happiness,  first,  in  itself,  and  secondly, 
in  its  consequences.  Such  is  the  importance  attached  to  this 
maxim  as  a  safeguard  of  Society,  that,  whether  true  or  not,  it 
is  to  be  maintained  by  state  authority. 


58  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — PLATO. 

3.  The  Psycliology  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  is  given  at  length 
in  the  Philebus. 

IV. — With  regard  to  the  scheme  of  Duty.  Tn  Plato,  we 
find  the  first  statement  of  the  four  Cardinal  Virtues. 

As  to  the  Substance  of  the  Moral  Code,  the  references 
above  made  to  the  Republic  and  the  Laws  will  show  in  what 
points  his  views  difi'ered  from  modern  Ethics. 

Benevolence  was  not  one  of  the  Cardinal  Virtues. 

His  notions  even  of  Reciprocity  were  rendered  hazy  and 
indistinct  by  his  theory  of  Justice  as  an  end  in  itself. 

The  inducements,  means,  and  stimulants  to  virtue,  in 
addition  to  penal  discipline,  are  training,  persuasion,  or  hor- 
tatory discourse,  dialectic  cognition  of  the  Ideas,  and,  above 
all,  that  ideal  aspiration  towards  the  Just,  the  Good,  around 
which  he  gathered  all  that  was  fascinating  in  poetry,  and  all 
the  associations  of  religion  and  divinity.  Plato  employed  his 
powerful  genius  in  working  up  a  lofty  spiritual  reward,  an 
ideal  intoxication,  for  inciting  men  to  the  self-denying  virtues. 
He  was  the  first  and  one  of  the  greatest  of  preachers.  His 
theory  of  Justice  is  suited  to  preaching,  and  not  to  a  scientific 
analysis  of  society. 

V. — The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Politics  is  intimate,  and 
even  inseparable.  The  Civil  Magistrate,  as  in  Hobbes,  supplies 
the  Ethical  sanction.  All  virtue  is  an  affair  of  the  state,  a 
political  institution.  This,  however,  is  qualified  by  the  de- 
mand for  an  ideal  state,  and  an  id .  h1  governor,  by  whom  alone 
anything  like  perfect  virtue  can  be  ascertained. 

VI. — The  relationship  with  Theology  is  also  close.  That 
is  to  say,  Plato  was  not  satisfied  to  construct  a  science  of  good 
and  evil,  without  conjoining  the  sentiments  towards  the  Gods. 
His  Theology,  however,  was  of  his  own  invention,  and  adapted 
to  his  ethical  theory.  It  was  necessary  to  suppose  that  the 
gods  were  the  authors  of  good,  in  order  to  give  countenance 
to  virtue. 

Plato  was  the  ally  of  the  Stoics,  as  against  the  Epicureans, 
and  of  such  modern  theorists  as  Butler,  who  make  virtue, 
and  not  happiness,  the  highest  end  of  man.  With  him, 
discipline  was  an  end  in  itself,  and  not  a  means  ;  and  he  en- 
deavoured to  soften  its  rigour  by  his  poetical  and  elevated 
Idealism. 

Although  he  did  not  preach  the  good  of  mankind,  or  direct 
beneficence,  he  undoubtedly  prepared  the  way  for  it,  by 
urging  self-denial,  which  has  no  issue  or  relevance,  except 
either  by  realizing  greater  happiness  to  Self  (mere  exalted 


THE   CYNICS.  59 

Prudence,   approved  of  bj  all  sects),  or  by  promoting  the 
welfare  of  others. 

THE  CYNICS  AND  THE  CYRENAICS. 

These  opposing  sects  sprang  from  Sokrates,  and  passed, 
witb  little  moditication,  the  one  into  the  Stoics,  the  other  into 
the  Epicureans.  Both  Antisthenes,  the  founder  of  the  Cynics, 
and  Akistippus,  the  founder  of  the  Cyrenaics,  were  disciples  of 
Sokrates. 

Their  doctrines  chiefly  referred  to  the  Summum  Bonum — 
the  Art  of  Living,  or  of  Happiness. 

The  Cynics  were  most  closely  allied  to  Sokrates ;  they,  in 
fact,  carried  out  to  the  full  his  chosen  mode  of  life.  His 
favourite  maxim — that  the  gods  had  no  wants,  and  that  the 
most  godlike  man  was  he  that  approached  to  the  same  state  — 
was  the  Cynic  Ideal.  To  subsist  upon  the  narrowest  means ; 
to  acquire  indifference  to  pain,  by  a  discipline  of  endurance  ;  to 
despise  all  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  wealth  and  pleasure, — were 
Sokratic  peculiarities,  and  were  the  heau  ideal  of  Cynicism. 

The  Cynic  succession  of  philosophers  were,  (1)  Antis- 
thenes, one  of  the  most  constant  friends  and  companions  of 
Sokrates ;  (2)  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  the  pupil  of  Antisthenes, 
and  the  best  known  type  of  the  sect.  (His  disciple  Krates,  a 
Theban,  was  the  master  of  Zeno,  the  first  Stoic)  (3) 
Stilpon  of  Megara,  (4)  Menedemus  of  Lretria,  (5)  Monimus  of 
Syracuse,  (6)  Kkates. 

The  two  first  heads  of  the  Ethical  scheme,  so  meagrely 
filled  up  by  the  ancient  systems  generally,  are  almost  a  total 
blank  as  regards  both  Cynics  and  Cyrenaics. 

I. — As  regards  a  Standard  of  right  and  wrong,  moral  good 
or  evil,  they  recognized  nothing  but  obedience  to  the  laws  and 
customs  of  society. 

n. — They  had  no  Psychology  of  a  moral  faculty,  of  the  will, 
or  of  benevolent  sentiment.  The  Cyrenaic  Aristippus  had  a 
Psychology  of  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

The  Cynics,  instead  of  discussing  Will,  exercised  it,  in  one 
of  its  most  prominent  forms, — self-control  and  endurance. 

Disinterested  conduct  was  no  part  of  their  scheme,  although 
the  ascetic  discipline  necessarily  promotes  abstinence  from  sins 
against  property,  and  from  all  the  vices  of  public  ambition, 

III. — The  proper  description  of  both  systems  comes  under 
the  Sunoimum  Bonum,  or  the  Art  of  Living. 

The  Cynic  Ideal  was  the  minimum  of  wants,  the  habitua- 
tion to  pain,  together  with  indifference  to  the  common  enjoy* 


60  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — CYNICS   AND   CYRENAIC3. 

merits.  The  compensating  reward  was  exemption  from  fear, 
anxiety,  and  disappointment;  also,  the  pride  of  superiority  to 
fellow- beings  and  of  approximation  to  the  gods.  Looking  at 
the  gi'eat  predominance  of  misery  in  human  life,  they  believed 
the  problem  of  living  to  consist  in  a  mastery  over  all  the  forms 
of  pain ;  until  this  was  first  secured,  there  was  to  be  a  total 
sacrifice  of  pleasure. 

The  Cynics  were  mostly,  like  Sokrates,  men  of  robust 
health,  and  if  they  put  their  physical  constitution  to  a  severe 
test  by  poor  living  and  exposure  to  wind  and  weather,  they 
also  saved  it  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  steady  industry  and 
toil.  Exercise  of  body  and  of  mind,  with  a  view  to  strength 
and  endurance,  was  enjoined  ;  but  it  was  the  drill  of  the 
soldier  rather  than  the  drudgery  of  the  artisan. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  public,  the  prominent  feature  of  the 
Cynic  was  his  contemptuous  jeering,  and  sarcastic  abuse  of 
everybody  around.  The  name  (Cynic,  dog-like)  denotes  this 
peculiarity.  The  anecdotes  relating  to  Diogenes  illustrate  his 
coarse  denunciation  of  men  in  general  and  their  luxurious  ways. 
He  set  at  defiance  all  the  conventions  of  courtesy  and  of  decency ; 
spoke  his  mind  on  everything  without  fear  or  remorse ;  and 
delighted  in  his  antagonism  to  public  opinion.  He  followed 
the  public  and  obtrusive  life  of  Sokrates,  but  instead  of  dia- 
lectic skill,  his  force  lay  in  vituperation,  sarcasm,  and  repartee. 
*  To  Sokrates,'  says  Epil.tetus,  *  Zeus  assigned  the  cross-exa- 
mining function ;  to  Uiogenes,  the  magisterial  and  chastising 
function ;  to  Zeno  (the  Stoic),  the  didactic  and  dogmatical-' 

The  Cynics  had  thus  in  full  measure  one  of  the  rewards  of 
asceticism,  the  pride  of  superiority  and  power.  They  did  not 
profess  an  end  apart  from  their  own  happiness  ;  they  believed 
and  maintained  that  theirs  was  the  only  safe  road  to  happiness. 
They  agreed  with  the  Cyrenaics  as  to  the  end ;  they  difibred 
as  to  the  means. 

The  founders  of  the  sect,  being  men  of  culture,  set  great 
store  by  education,  from  which,  however,  they  excluded  (as  it 
would  appear)  both  the  Artistic  and  the  Intellectual  elements 
of  the  superior  instruction  of  the  time,  namely.  Music,  and 
the  Sciences  of  Geometry,  Astronomy,  &c.  Plato's  writings 
and  teachings  were  held  in  low  esteem.  Physical  training, 
self-denial  and  endurance,  and  literary  or  Rhetorical  cultiva- 
tion, comprise  the  items  taught  by  Diogenes  when  he  became 
a  slave,  and  was  made  tutor  to  the  sons  of  his  master. 

IV". — As  to  the  Moral  Code,  the  Cynics  were  dissenters 
from  the  received  usages  of  society.      They  disapproved  of 


ARISTIPPUS.  61 

marriage  laws,  aud  maintained  the  liberty  of  individual  tastes 
in  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes.  Beinj]:  free-thinkers  in  religion 
they  had  no  respect  for  any  of  the  customs  founded  on  relig-ion. 

V. — The  collateral  relations  of  Cynical  Ethics  to  Politics 
and  to  Theoloory  afford  no  scope  for  additional  observations. 
The  Cynic  and  Cyrenaic  both  stood  aloof  from  the  affairs  of 
the  state,  and  were  alike  disbelievers  in  the  gods. 

The  Cynics  appear  to  have  been  inclined  to  communism 
among  themselves,  which  was  doubtless  easy  with  their  views 
as  to  the  wants  of  life.  It  is  thought  not  unlikely  that 
Sokrates  himself  held  views  of  communism  both  as  to  pro- 
perty and  to  wives ;  being  in  this  respect  also  the  prompter 
of  Plato  (Grant's  Ethics  of  Aristotle,  Essay  ii.). 

The  Cyrenaic  system  originated  with  Aristippus  of  Cyrene, 
another  hearer  and  companion  of  Sokrates.  The  tempera- 
ment of  Aristippus  was  naturally  inactive,  easy,  and  luxurious; 
nevertheless  he  set  great  value  on  mental  cultivation  and 
accomplishments.  His  conversations  with  Sokrates  form  one 
of  the  most  interesting  chapters  of  Xenophon's  Memorabilia, 
and  are  the  key  to  the  plan  of  life  ultimately  elaborated  by 
him.  Sokrates  finding  out  his  disposition,  repeats  all  the 
arguments  in  favour  of  the  severe  and  ascetic  system.  He 
urges  the  necessity  of  strength,  courage,  energy,  self-denial, 
in  order  to  attain  the  post  of  ruler  over  others  ;  which,  how- 
ever, Aristippus  fences  by  saying  that  he  has  no  ambition  to 
rule ;  he  prefers  the  middle  course  of  a  free  man,  neither  ruling 
nor  ruled  over.  Next,  Sokrates  recalls  the  dangers  and  evil 
contingencies  of  subjection,  of  being  oppressed,  unjustly  treated, 
sold  into  slavery,  and  the  consequent  wretchedness  to  one 
unhardened  by  an  adequate  discipline.  It  is  in  this  argument 
that  he  recites  the  well-known  apologue  called  the  choice  of 
Herakles ;  in  which,  Virtue  on  the  one  hand,  and  Pleasure 
with  attendant  vice  on  the  other,  with  their  respective  conse- 
quences, are  set  before  a  youth  in  his  opening  career.  The 
whole  argument  with  Aristippus  was  purely  prudential ;  but 
Aristippus  was  not  convinced  nor  brought  over  to  the  Sokratic 
ideal.  He  nevertheloss  adopted  a  no  less  prudential  and  self- 
denying  plan  of  his  own. 

Aristippus  did  not  write  an  account  of  his  system;  and  the 
particulars  of  his  life,  which  would  show  how  he  acted  it,  are 
but  imperfectly  preserved.  He  w^as  the  first  theorist  to  avow 
and  maintain  that  Pleasure,  and  the  absence  of  Pain,  are  the 
proper,  the  direct,  the  immediate,  the  sole  end  of  living  ;  not  of 
course  mere  present  pleasures  and  present  relief  from  pain,  but 


62  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— CYNICS  AND  CYRENAICS. 

present  and  future  taken  in  one  great  total.  He  would  sur- 
render present  pleasure,  and  incur  present  pain,  with  a  view  to 
greater  future  good  ;  but  he  did  not  believe  in  the  necessity 
of  that  extreme  surrender  and  renunciation  enjoined  by  the 
Cynics.  He  gratified  all  his  appetites  and  cravings  within 
the  limits  of  safety.  He  could  sail  close  upon  the  island  of 
Calypso  without  surrendering  himself  to  the  sorceress.  In- 
stead of  deadening  the  sexual  appetite  he  gave  it  scope,  and 
yet  resisted  the  dangerous  consequences  of  associating  with 
Hetseras.  In  his  enjoyments  he  was  free  from  jealousies ; 
thinking  it  no  derogation  to  his  pleasure  that  others  had  the 
same  pleasure.  Having  thus  a  lair  share  of  natural  indul- 
gences, he  dispenses  with  the  Cynic  pride  of  superiority  and 
the  luxury  of  contemning  other  men.  Strength  of  will  was 
required  for  this  course  no  less  than  for  the  Cynic  life. 

Aristippus  put  forward  strongly  the  impossibility  of  rea- 
lizing all  the  Happiness  that  might  seem  within  one's  reach  ; 
such  were  the  attendant  and  deterring  evils,  that  many  plea- 
sures had  to  be  foregone  by  the  wise  man.  S(jmetinies  even 
the  foolish  person  attained  more  pleasure  than  the  wise ;  such 
is  the  lottery  of  life ;  but,  as  a  general  rule,  the  fact  would  be 
otherwise.  The  wisest  could  not  escape  the  natural  evils, 
pain  and  death ;  but  envy,  passionate  love,  and  superstition, 
being  the  consequences  of  vain  and  mistaken  opinion,  might  be 
conquered  by  a  knowledge  of  the  real  nature  of  Good  and  Evil. 

As  a  proper  appendage  to  such  a  system,  Aristippus 
sketched  a  Psychology  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  which  was 
important  as  a  beginning,  and  is  believed  to  have  brought  the 
subject  into  prominence.  The  soul  comes  under  three  condi- 
tions,— a  gentle,  smooth,  equable  motion,  corresponding  to 
Pleasui'e  ;  a  rough,  violent  motion,  which  is  Pain ;  and  a  calm, 
quiescent  state,  indifference  or  Unconsciousness.  More  re- 
markable is  the  farther  assertion  that  Pleasure  is  only  present 
or  realized  consciousness ;  the  memory  of  pleasures  past,  and 
the  idea  of  pleasures  to  come,  are  not  to  be  counted  ;  the 
painful  accompaniments  of  desire,  hope,  and  fear,  are  sufficient 
to  neutralize  any  enjoyment  that  may  arise  from  ideal  bliss. 
Consequently,  the  happiness  of  a  life  means  the  sum  total  of 
these  moments  of  realized  or  present  pleasure.  He  recognized 
pleasures  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of  the  body  ;  sympathy  with 
the  good  fortunes  of  friends  or  country  gives  a  thrill  of 
genuine  and  lively  joy.  Still,  the  pleasures  and  the  pains  of 
the  body,  and  of  one's  own  self,  are  more  intense ;  witness 
the  bodily  inflictions  used  in  punishing  offenders. 


THE  CHIEF  GOOD.  63 

The  Cyrenaics  denied  that  there  is  anything  just,  or 
honourable,  or  base,  by  nature  ;  all  depended  on  the  laws  and 
customs.  These  laws  and  customs  the  wise  man  obeys,  to 
avoid  punishment  and  discredit  from  the  society  where  he 
lives  ;  doubtless,  also,  from  higher  motives,  if  the  political 
constitution,  and  his  fellow  citizens  generally,  can  inspire  him 
with  respect. 

Neither  the  Cynics  nor  the  Cyrenaics  made  any  profession 
of  generous  or  disinterested  impulses. 

ARISTOTLE.         [384-322  b.c] 

Three  treatises  on  Ethics  have  come  down  associated  with 
the  name  of  Aristotle ;  one  large  work,  the  Nicomachean 
Ethics,  referred  to  by  general  consent  as  the  chief  and  im- 
portant source  of  Aristotle's  views ;  and  two  smaller  works, 
the  Eudemian  Ethics,  and  the  Magna  Moralia,  attributed  by 
later  critics  to  his  disciples.  Even  of  the  large  work,  which 
consists  of  ten  books,  three  books  (V.  VI.  VII.),  recurring  in 
the  Eudemian  Ethics,  are  considered  by  Sir  A.  Grant,  though 
not  by  other  critics,  to  have  been  composed  by  Endemus,  the 
supposed  author  of  this  second  treatise,  and  a  leading  disciple 
of  Aristotle. 

Like  many  other  Aristotelian  treatises,  the  Nicomachean 
Ethics  is  deficient  in  method  and  consistency  on  any  view 
of  its  composition.  But  the  profound  and  sagacious  remarks 
scattered  throughout  give  it  a  permanent  interest,  as  the 
work  of  a  great  mind.  There  may  be  extracted  from  it 
certain  leading  doctrines,  whose  point  of  departure  was 
Platonic,  although  greatly  modified  and  improved  by  the 
genius  and  personality  of  Aristotle. 

Our  purpose  will  be  best  served  by  a  copious  abstract  of 
the  Nicomachean  Ethics. 

Book  Eirst  discusses  the  Chief  Good,  or  the  Highest  End 
of  all  human  endeavours.  Every  exercise  of  the  human 
powers  aims  at  some  good ;  all  the  arts  of  life  have  their 
several  ends — medicine,  ship-building,  generalship.  Bat  the 
ends  of  these  special  arts  are  all  subordinate  to  some  higher  end ; 
which  end  is  the  chief  good,  and  the  subject  of  the  highest  art 
of  all,  the  Political ;  for  as  Politics  aims  at  the  welfare  of  the 
state,  or  aggregate  of  indviduals,  it  is  identical  with  and  com- 
prehends the  welfare  of  the  individual  (Chaps.  L,  IL). 

As  regards  the  'method  of  the  science,  the  highest  exactness 
is  not  attainable ;  the  political  art  studies  what  is  just, 
honourable,  and  good ;  and  these  are  matters  about  which  the 


64  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

utmost  discrepancy  of  Opinion  prevails.  From  sucli  premises, 
the  conclusions  which  we  draw  can  only  be  probabilities. 
The  man  of  experience  and  cultivation  will  expect  nothinf^ 
more.  Youths,  who  are  inexperienced  in  the  concerns  of  life, 
and  given  to  follow  their  impulses,  can  hardly  appreciate  our 
reasoning,  and  will  derive  no  benefit  from  it :  but  reason- 
able men  will  find  the  knowledge  highly  profitable  (HI.)- 

Resuming  the  main  question — What  is  the  highest  prac- 
tical good — the  aim  of  the  all-coraprehending  political  science? 
— we  find  an  agreement  among  men  as  to  the  name  happiness 
(^evBat/Liovia)  ;  but  great  differences  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
thing.  The  many  regard  it  as  made  up  of  the  tangible 
elements — pleasures,  wealth,  or  honour  ;  while  individuals  vary 
in  their  estimate  according  to  each  man's  state  for  the  time 
being ;  the  sick  placing  it  in  health,  the  poor  in  wealth,  the 
consciously  ignorant  in  knowledge.  On  the  other  hand,  cer- 
tain philosophers  [in  allusion  to  Plato]  set  up  an  absolute 
good, — an  Idea  of  the  Good,  apart  from  all  the  particulars,  yet 
imparting  to  each  its  property  of  being  good  (IV.). 

Referring  to  men's  lives  (as  a  clue  to  their  notions  of  the 
good),  we  find  three  prominent  varieties ;  the  life  of  pleasure 
or  sensuality, — ^the  political  life,  aspiring  to  honour, — and  the 
contemplative  life.  The  first  is  the  life  of  the  brutes,  although 
countenanced  by  men  high  in  power.  The  second  is  too 
precarious,  as  depending  on  others,  and  is  besides  only  a  means 
to  an  end — namely,  our  consciousness  of  our  own  merits  ;  for 
the  ambitious  man  seeks  to  be  honoured  for  his  virtue  and  by 
good  judges — thus  showing  that  he  too  regards  virtue  as  the 
superior  good.  Yet  neither  will  virtue  satisfy  all  the  con- 
ditions. The  virtuous  man  may  slumber  or  pass  his  life  in 
inactivity,  or  may  experience  the  maximum  of  calamity ;  and 
Buch  a  man  cannot  be  regarded  as  happy.  The  money-lender  is 
still  less  entitled,  for  he  is  an  unnatural  character ;  and  money 
is  obviously  good  as  a  means.  So  that  there  remains  only  the 
life  of  contemplation ;  respecting  which  more  presently  (V.). 

To  a  review  of  the  Platonic  doctrine,  Aristotle  devotes  a 
whole  chapter.  He  urges  against  it  various  objections,  very 
much  of  a  piece  with  those  brought  against  the  theory  of  Ideas 
generally.  If  there  be  but  one  good,  there  should  be  but 
one  science ;  the  alleged  Idea  is  merely  a  repetition  of  the 
phenomena;  the  recognized  goods  (*.e.,  varieties  of  good)  cannot 
be  brought  under  one  Idea;  moreover,  even  granting  the  reality 
of  such  an  Idea,  it  is  useless  for  all  practical  purposes.  What 
GUI'  science  seeks  is  Good,  human  and  attainable  (VI.). 


THE  SUPREME  END  NOT  A  MEANS.         65 

The  Supreme  End  is  what  is  not  only  chosen  as  an  End, 
but  is  never  chosen  except  as  an  End :  not  chosen  both  for 
itself  and  with  a  view  to  something  ulterior.  It  must  thus 
be — (1)  An  end-in-itsclj\  pursued  for  its  own  sake ;  (2)  it 
musfc  farther  be  self-sufficing,  leaving  no  outstanding  wants — 
man's  sociability  being  taken  into  account  and  gratified. 
Happiness  is  such  an  end ;  but  we  must  state  more  clearly 
wherein  happiness  consists. 

This  will  appear,  if  we  examine  what  is  the  work  appro- 
priate and  peculiar  to  man.  Every  artist,  the  sculptor,  car- 
penter, currier  (so  too  the  eye  and  the  hand),  has  his  own 
peculiar  work :  and  good,  to  him,  consists  in  his  performing 
that  work  well.  Man  also  has  his  appropriate  and  peculiar 
work :  not  merely  living — for  that  he  has  in  common  with 
vegetables  ;  nor  the  life  of  sensible  perception — for  that  he 
has  in  common  with  other  animals,  horses,  oxen,  &c.  There 
remains  the  life  of  man  as  a  rational  being:  that  is,  as  a 
being  possessing  reason  along  with  other  mental  elements, 
which  last  are  controllable  or  modifiable  by  reason.  This 
last  life  is  the  peculiar  work  or  province  of  man.  For  our 
purpose,  we  must  consider  man,  not  merely  as  possessing,  but 
as  actually  exercising  and  putting  in  action,  these  mental 
capacities.  Moreover,  when  we  talk  generally  of  the  work  or 
province  of  an  artist,  we  always  tacitly  imply  a  complete  and 
excellent  artist  in  his  own  craft :  and  so  likewise  when  we 
speak  of  the  work  of  a  man,  we  mean  that  work  as 
performed  by  a  complete  and  competent  man.  Since  the 
work  of  man,  therefore,  consists  in  the  active  exercise 
of  the  mental  capapacities,  conformably  to  reason,  the 
supreme  good  of  man  will  consist  in  performing  this  work 
with  excellence  or  virtue.  Herein  he  vrill  obtain  happiness, 
if  we  assume  continuance  throughout  a  full  period  of  life : 
one  day  or  a  short  time  is  not  sufiicient  for  happiness 
(VII.). 

Aristotle  thus  lays  down  the  outline  of  man's  supreme 
Good  or  Happiness  :  which  he  declares  to  be  the  beginning  or 
principle  ((ipxv)  ^^  ^^^^  deductions,  and  to  be  obtained  in  the 
best  way  that  the  subject  admits.  He  next  proceeds  to  com- 
pare this  outline  with  the  various  received  opinions  on  the 
subject  of  happiness,  showing  that  it  embraces  much  of  what 
has  been  considered  essential  by  former  philosophers :  such 
as  being  *  a  good  of  the  mind,'  and  not  a  mere  external  good  : 
being  equivalent  to  'living  well  and  doing  well,'  another  defi- 
nition ;  consisting  in  virtue  (the  Cynics)  ;  in  practical  wisdom 


6Q  EIHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

— (f)p6i'7]erK  (Sokrates)  ;  in  philosophy  ;  or  in  all  these  coupled 
with  pleasui'e  (Plato,  in  the  Philebus).  Agreeing  with  those 
who  insisted  on  virtue,  Aristotle  considers  his  own  theory  au 
improv^ement,  byrsqairing  virtue  in  act,  and  not  simply  in  pos- 
session. Moreover,  he  contends  that  to  the  virtuous  man,  vir- 
tuous performance  is  in  itself  pleasurable  ;  so  that  no  extraneous 
source  of  pleasure  is  needed.  Such  (he  says)  is  the  judgment 
of  the  truly  excellent  man  ;  Avhich  must  be  taken  as  conclusive 
respecting  the  happiness,  as  well  as  the  honourable  pre-emi- 
nence of  the  best  mental  exercises.  Nevertheless,  he  admits 
(so  far  complying  with  the  Cyrenaics)  that  some  extraneous 
conditions  cannot  be  dispensed  with  ;  the  virtuous  man  can 
hardly  exhibit  his  virtue  in  act,  without  some  aid  from  friends 
and  property  ;  nor  can  he  be  happy  if  his  person  is  disgusting 
to  behold  or  his  parentage  vile  (VIII.). 

This  last  admission  opens  the  door  to  those  that  place 
good  fortune  in  the  same  line  with  happiness,  and  raises  the 
question,  how  happiness  is  attained.  By  teaching?  By 
habitual  exercise  ?  By  divine  grace  ?  By  Fortune  ?  If 
there  be  any  gift  vouchsafed  by  divine  grace  to  man,  it  ought 
to  be  this ;  but  whether  such  be  the  case  or  not,  it  is  at  any 
raie  the  most  divine  and  best  of  all  acquisitions.  To  ascribe 
such  an  acquisition  as  this  to  Fortune  would  be  absurd. 
Nature,  which  always  aims  at  the  best,  provides  that  it  shall 
be  attained,  through  a  certain  course  of  teaching  and  training, 
by  all  who  are  not  physically  or  mentally  disqualified.  It  thus 
falls  within  the  scope  of  political  science,  whose  object  is  to 
impart  the  best  character  and  active  habits  to  the  citizens.  It 
is  with  good  reason  that  we  never  call  a  horse  happy,  for  he 
can  never  reach  such  an  attainment ;  nor  indeed  can  a  child 
be  so  called  while  yet  a  child,  for  the  same  reason  ;  though  in 
his  case  we  may  hope  for  the  future,  presuming  on  a  full  term 
of  life,  as  was  before  postulated  (IX.).  But  this  long  term 
allows  room  for  extreme  calamities  and  change  in  a  man's  lot. 
Are  we  then  to  say,  with  Solon,  that  no  one  can  be  called 
happy  so  long  as  he  lives  ?  or  that  the  same  man  may  often 
pass  backwards  and  forwards  from  happiness  to  misery  ?  No  ; 
this  only  shows  the  mistake  of  resting  happiness  upon  so  un- 
sound a  basis  as  external  fortune.  The  only  true  basis  of  it 
is  the  active  manifestation  of  mental  excellence,  which  no  ill 
fortune  can  efface  from  a  man's  mind  (X.).  Such  a  man  will 
bear  calamity,  if  it  comes,  with  dignity,  and  can  never  be 
made  thoroughly  miserable.  If  he  be  moderately  supplied  as 
to  external  circumstances,  he  is  to  be  styled  happy ;  that  is, 


WHEREIN   DOES   MaN's   EXCELLENCE   CONSIST  ?  67 

happy  as  a  man — as  far  as  man  can  reasonably  expect.  Even 
after  his  decease  he  will  be  atfected,  yet  only  feebly  afi'ected, 
by  the  good  or  ill  fortune  of  his  surviviug  children.  Aristotle 
evidently  assigns  little  or  no  value  to  presumed  posthumous 
happiness  (XL). 

In  his  love  of  subtle  distinctions,  he  asks,  Is  happiness  a 
thing  admirable  in  itself,  or  a  thing  praiseworthy  ?  It  is  ad- 
mirable in  itself;  for  what  is  praiseworthy  has  a  relative 
character,  and  is  pmised  as  conducive  to  some  ulterior  end ; 
while  the  chief  good  must  be  an  End  in  itself,  for  the  sake  of 
which  ever^^thing  else  is  done  (XIL).  [This  is  a  defective 
recognition  of  Relativity.] 

Having  assumed  as  one  of  the  items  of  his  definition,  that 
man's  happiness  must  be  in  his  special  or  characteristic  work, 
performed  with  perfect  excellence, — Aristotle  now  proceeds  to 
settle  wherein  that  excellence  consists.  This  leads  to  a  classifi- 
cation of  the  parts  of  the  soul.  The  first  distribution  is,  into 
Rational  and  Irrational;  whether  these  two  are  separable  in 
fact,  or  only  logically  separable  (like  concave  and  convex),  is 
immaterial  to  the  present  enquiry.  Of  the  irrational,  the 
lowest  portion  is  the  Vegetative  {(pvriKov)^  which  seems  most 
active  in  sleep ;  a  state  where  bad  men  and  good  are  on  a  par, 
and  which  is  incapable  of  any  human  excellence.  The  next 
portion  is  the  Appetitive  (eV/^t'/i?;T<«:oV),  which  is  not  thus  in- 
capable. It  partakes  of  reason,  yet  it  includes  something  con- 
flicting with  reason.  These  conflicting  tendencies  are  usually 
modiliable  by  reason,  and  may  become  in  the  temperate  man 
completely  obedient  to  reason.  There  remains  Reason — the 
highest  and  sovereign  portion  of  the  soul.  Human  excellence 
(aptTi'j)  or  virtue,  is  either  of  the  Appetitive  part, — moral 
(ijOiKij)  virtue;  or  of  the  Reason — mtellectu&l  (^lapoTjnKi'j)  vir- 
tue. Liberality  and  temperance  are  Moral  virtues  ;  philosophy, 
intelligence,  and  wisdom,  Intellectual  (XIIL). 

Such  is  an  outline  of  the  First  Book,  having  for  its  subject 
the  Chief  Good,  the  Supreme  End  of  man. 

Book  Second  embraces  the  consideration  of  points  relative 
to  the  Moral  Virtues  ;  it  also  commences  Aristotle's  celebrated 
definition  and  classification  of  the  virtues  or  excellencies. 

Whereas  intellectual  excellence  is  chiefly  generated  and 
improved  by  teaching,  moral  excellence  is  a  result  of  habit 
(c'6^ov)  ;  whence  its  name  (Ethical).  Hence  we  may  see  that 
moral  excellence  is  no  inherent  part  of  our  nature  :  if  it  were, 
it  could  not  be  reversed  by  habit — any  more  than  a  stone  can 
acquire  from  any  number  of  repetitions  the  habit  of  moving 


68  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — AKISTOTLE. 

upward,  or  fire  the  habit  of  moving  downward.  These  moral 
excellencies  are  neither  a  part  of  uur  nature,  nor  yet  contrary 
to  our  nature :  we  are  by  ua^ture  fitted  to  take  them  on,  buo 
they  are  brought  to  consummation  through  habit.  It  is  n«jt 
with  them  as  with  our  senses,  where  nature  first  gives  us  the 
power  to  see  and  hear,  and  where  we  afterwards  exercise  that 
power.  Moral  virtues  are  acquired  only  by  practice.  We 
learn  to  build  or  to  play  the  harp,  by  building  or  playing  the 
harp :  so  too  we  become  just  or  courageous,  by  a  course  of 
just  or  courageous  acts.  This  is  attested  by  all  lawgivers  in 
their  resp.ective  cities;  all  of  them  shape  the  characters  of 
their  respective  citizens,  by  enforcing  habitual  practice.  Some 
do  it  well ;  others  ill ;  according  to  the  practice,  so  will  be 
the  resulting  character ;  as  he  that  is  practised  in  building 
badly,  will  be  a  bad  builder  in  the  end ;  and  he  that  begins 
on.  a  bad  habit  of  playing  the  harp,  becomes  confirmed  into  a 
bad  player.  Hence  the  importance  of  making  the  young 
perform  good  actions  habitually  and  from  the  beginning. 
The  permanent  ethical  acquirements  are  generated  by  uni- 
form and  persistent  practice  (L).  [This  is  the  earliest  state- 
ment of  the  philosophy  of  habit^ 

Everything  thus  turns  upon  practice:  and  Aristotle  re- 
minds us  that  his  purpose  here  is,  not  simply  to  teach  what 
virtue  is,  but  to  produce  virtuous  agents.  How  are  we  to 
know  what  the  practice  should  be  ?  It  must  be  conformable 
to  right  reason :  every  one  admits  this,  and  we  shall  explain 
it  further  in  a  future  book.  But  let  us  proclaim  at  once, 
that  in  regard  to  moral  action,  as  in  regard  to  health,  no 
exact  rules  can  be  laid  down.  Amidst  perpetual  variability, 
each  agent  must  in  the  last  resort  be  guided  by  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case.  Still,  however,  something  may  be  done 
to  help  him.  Here  Aristotle  proceeds  to  introduce  the  famous 
doctrine  of  the  Mean.  We  may  err,  as  regards  health,  both 
by  too  much  and  by  too  little  of  exercise,  food,  or  drink. 
The  same  holds  good  in  regard  to  temperance,  courage,  and 
the  other  excellences  (II.). 

His  next  remark  is  another  of  his  characteristic  doctrines, 
that  the  test  of  a  formed  habit  of  virtue,  is  to  feel  no  ^jain ;  he 
that  feels  pain  in  brave  acts  is  a  coward.  Whence  he  proceeds 
to  illustrate  the  position,  that  moral  virtue  {i]OiKij  afjeTij)  has 
to  do  with  pleasures  and  pains.  A  virtuous  education  consists 
in  making  us  feel  pleasure  and  pain  at  proper  objects,  and  on 
proper  occasions.  Punishment  is  a  discipline  of  pain.  Some 
philosophers  (the  Cynics)  have  been  led  by  this  consideratioa 


i 


VIRTUE   DEFINED.  69 

to  make  virtue  consist  in  apathy,  or  insensibility  ;  bat  Aristotle 
woald  regulate,  and  not  extirpate  our  sensibilities  (HI.)* 

But  does  it  not  seem  a  paradox  to  say  (according  to  the 
doctrine  of  habit  in  I.),  that  a  man  becomes  just,  by  performing 
just  actions;  since,  if  he  performs  just  actions,  he  is  already 
just  r'  The  answer  is  given  by  a  distinction  drawn  in  a  com- 
parison with  the  training  in  the  common  arts  of  life.  That  a 
man  is  a  good  writer  or  musician,  we  see  by  his  writing  or 
his  music;  we  take  no  account  of  the  state  of  his  mind  in 
other  respects :  if  he  knows  how  to  do  this,  it  is  enough.  But 
in  respect  to  moral  excellence,  such  knowledge  is  not  enough : 
a  man  may  do  just  or  temperate  acts,  but  he  is  not  necessarily 
a  just  or  temperate  man,  unless  he  does  them  with  right 
intention  and  on  their  own  account.  This  state  of  the 
internal  mind,  which  is  requisite  to  constitute  the  just  and 
temperate  man,  follows  upon  the  habitual  practice  of  just  and 
temperate  acts,  and  follows  upon  nothing  else.  But  most 
men  are  content  to  talk  without  any  such  practice.  They 
fancy  erroneously  that  knovjiug,  without  doing,  will  make  a 
good  man.  [We  have  here  the  reaction  against  the  Sokratic 
doctrine  of  virtue,  and  also  the  statement  of  the  necessity  of 
2l  proper  motive^  in  order  to  virtue.] 

Aristotle  now  sets  himself  to  find  a  definition  of  virtue, 
per  genus  et  differentiarn.  There  are  three  qualities  in  the 
Soul — Passions  {TraOrj),  as  Desire,  Anger,  Fear,  &c.,  followed 
by  pleasure  or  pain ;  Capacities  or  Faculties  (^i;i/d^e/s),  as  our 
capability  of  being  angry,  afraid,  affected  by  pity,  &c. ;  Fixed 
tendencies^  acquir  en  tents,  or  states  (tfetv).  To  which  of  the 
three  does  virtue  or  excellence  belong  ?  It  cannot  be  a 
Passion ;  lor  passions  are  not  in  themselves  good  or  evil,  and 
are  not  accompanied  with  deliberate  choice  {7rpoutpeai<i),  will, 
or  intention.  Nor  is  it  a  Faculty :  for  we  are  not  praised  or 
blamed  because  we  can  have  such  or  such  emotions;  and 
moreover  our  faculties  are  innate,  which  virtue  is  not. 
Accordingly,  virtue,  or  excellence,  must  be  an  acquirement 
(ef<v) — a  State  (Y.).     This  is  the  yeuus. 

Now,  as  to  the  differe7dia,  which  brings  us  to  a  more  specific 
statement  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Mea,n.  The  specific  excel- 
lence of  virtue  is  to  be  got  at  from  quantity  in  the  abstract, 
from  which  we  derive  the  conceptions  of  more,  less,  and 
equal;  or  excess,  defect,  and  mean  ;  the  equal  being  the  mean 
between  excess  and  defect.  Bat  in  the  case  of  moral  actions, 
the  arithmetical  mean  may  not  hold  (for  example,  six  between 
two  and  ten)  ;  it  must  be  a  mean  relative  to  the  individual : 


70'  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS  — ARISTOTLE. 

Milo  must  have  more  food  than  a  novice  in  the  training 
Bchool.  In  the  arts,  we  call  a  work  perfect,  when  anything 
either  added  or  taken  away  would  spoil  it.  Now,  virtue, 
which,  like  Nature,  is  better  and  more  exact  than  any  art,  has 
for  its  subject-matter,  passions  and  actions  ;  all  which  are 
wrong  either  in  defect  or  in  excess.  Virtue  aims  at  the  mean 
between  them,  or  the  maximum  of  Good  :  which  implies  a 
correct  estimation  of  all  the  circumstances  of  the  act, — when 
we  ought  to  do  it — under  what  conditions — towards  whom — 
for  what  purpose — in  what  manner,  &c.  This  is  the  praise- 
worthy mean,  which  virtue  aspires  to.  We  may  err  in  many 
ways  (for  evil,  as  the  Pythagoreans  said,  is  of  the  nature  of 
the  Infinite,  good  of  the  Finite),  but  we  can  da  right  only  in 
one  wa}^ ;  so  much  easier  is  the  path  of  error. 

Combining  then  this  differentia  with  the  genus^  as  above 
established,  the  complete  definition  is  given  thus—'  Virtue  is 
an  acquirement  or  fixed  state,  tending  by  deliberate  purpose 
Cgenus),  towards  a  mean  relative  to  us  (difference).'  To  which 
is  added  the  foUow^ing  all- important  qualification,  '  determined 
by  reason  (^0709),  and  as  the  judicious  wan  (o  (ppovifio'i)  would 
determine.'  [Such  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Mean,  which  com- 
bines the  practical  matter-of-fact  quality  of  moderation,  recog- 
nized by  all  sages,  with  a  high  and  abstract  conception,  starting 
from  the  Pythagorean  remark  quoted  by  Aristotle,  'the  Infinite, 
or  Indefinite,  is  evil,  the  Finite  or  the  Definite  is  good,'  and 
re-appearing  in  Plato  as  'conformity  to  measure'  (/a6t/>/oti^9), 
by  which  he  (Plato)  proposes  to  discriminate  between  good 
and  evil.  The  concluding  qualification  of  virtue — '  a  rational 
determination,  according  to  the  ideal  judicious  man'  — is  an 
attempt  to  assign  a  standard  or  authority  for  what  is  the 
proper  '  Mean  ;'  an  authority  purely  ideal  or  imaginary ;  the 
actual  authority  being  always,  rightly  or  wrongly,  the  society 
of  the  time.] 

Aristotle  admits  that  his  doctrine  of  Virtue  being  a  mean, 
cannot  have  an  application  quite  universal ;  because  there  are 
some  acts  that  in  their  very  name  connote  badness,  which 
are  wrong  thereibre,  not  from  excess  or  defect,  but  in  them- 
selves (VI.}.  He  next  proceeds  to  resolve  his  general  doc- 
trine into  particulars :  enumerating  the  different  virtues 
stated,  each  as  a  mean,  between  two  extremes — Courage, 
Temperance,  Liberality,  Magnanimity,  Magnificence,  Meek- 
ness, Amiability  or  Friendliness,  Truthlulness,  Justice  (VIL). 
They  are  described  in  detail  in  the  two  following  books.  In 
uhap.  VIIL,  he  qualifies  his  doctrine  of  Mean  and  Extremes, 


THE  VOLUNTARY  AND   INVOLUNTARY.  71 

by  the  remark  that  one  Exti-eme  may  be  much  farther 
removed  from  the  Mean  than  the  other.  Cowardice  and 
Rashness  are  the  extremes  of  Courage,  but  Cowardice  is 
farthest  removed  from  the  Mean. 

The  concludincic  chapter  (IX.)  of  the  Book  reflects  on  the 
great  difficulty  of  hitting  the  mean  in  all  things,  and  of 
correctly  estimating  all  the  requisite  circumstances,  in  each 
particular  case.  He  gives  as  practical  rules: — To  avoid  at 
all  events  the  worst  extreme ;  to  keep  farthest  from  our 
natural  bent ;  to  guard  against  the  snare  of  pleasure.  Slight 
mistakes  on  either  side  are  little  blamed,  but  grave  and 
conspicuous  cases  incur  severe  censure.  Yet  how  far  the 
censure  ought  to  go,  is  difficult  to  lay  down  beforehand  in 
general  terms.  There  is  the  same  difficulty  in  regard  to  all 
particular  cases,  and  all  the  facts  of  sense :  which  must 
be    left,    after  all,   to    the  judgment  of   Sensible  Perception 

Book  Third  takes  up  the  consideration  of  the  Virtues  in 
detail,  but  prefaces  them  with  a  dissertation,  occupying  live 
chapters,  on  the  Voluntary  and  Involuntary.  Since  praise 
and  blame  are  bestowed  only  on  voluntary  actions, — the  in- 
voluntary being  pardoned,  and  even  pitied, — it  is  requisite  to 
define  Volantaiy  and  Involuntary.  What  is  done  under 
physical  compalsion,  or  through  ignorance,  is  clearly  involun- 
tary. What  is  done  under  the  fear  of  greater  evils  is  partly 
voluntary,  and  partl}^  involuntary.  Such  actions  are  voluntary 
in  the  sense  of  being  a  man's  own  actions ;  involuntary  in 
that  they  are  not  chosen  on  their  ovrn  account ;  being  praised 
or  blamed  according  to  the  circumstances.  There  are  cases 
where  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  of  two  conflicting  pressures 
ought  to  preponderate,  and  compulsion  is  an  excuse  often 
misapplied  :  but  compulsion,  in  its  strict  sense,  is  not  strength 
of  motive  at  all ;  it  is  taking  the  action  entirely  out  of  our 
own  hands.  As  regards  Ignorance,  a  difference  is  made. 
Ignorance  of  a  general  rule  is  matter  for  censure ;  ignorance 
of  particular  circumstances  may  be  excused.  [This  became  the 
ftimous  maxim  of  law, — '  Ignorantia  facti  excusat,  ignorantia 
juris  non  excusat.']  If  the  agent,  when  better  informed, 
repents  of  his  act  committed  in  ignorance,  he  afibrds  good 
proof  that  the  act  done  was  really  involuntary.  Acts  done 
from  anger  or  desire  (which  are  in  the  agent's  self)  are  not  to 
be  held  as  involuntary.  ( 1 )  If  they  were,  the  actions  of  brutea 
and  children  would  be  involuntar3\  (2)  Some  of  these  acts 
are  morally  good  and  approved.     (8)  Obligation  often  attaches 


72  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLB. 

to  these  feelings.  (4)  What  is  done  from  desire  is  pleasant ; 
the  involuntary  is  painful.  (5)  Errors  of  passion  are  to  be 
eschewed,  no  less  than  those  of  reason  (I.). 

The  next  point  is  the  nature  of  Purpose,  Determination,  or 
Deliberate  Preference  {wpoaipeaiK^,  which  is  in  the  closest 
kindred  with  moral  excellence,  and  is  even  more  essential,  in 
the  ethical  estimate,  than  acts  themselves.  This  is  a  part  of  the 
Voluntary ;  but  not  co-extensive  therewith.  For  it  excludes 
sudden  and  unpremeditated  acts ;  and  is  not  shared  by  irra- 
tional beings.  It  is  distinct  from  desire,  from  anger,  from  wish, 
and  from  opinion ;  with  all  which  it  is  sometimes  confounded. 
Desire  is  often  opposed  to  it ;  the  incontinent  man  acts  upon 
his  desires,  but  without  any  purpose,  or  even  against  his  pur- 
pose ;  the  continent  man  -acts  upon  his  purpose,  but  against 
his  desires.  Purpose  is  still  more  distinct  from  anger,  and  is 
even  distinct  (though  in  a  less  degree)  from  wish  (l3ovXr](nf)j 
which  is  choice  of  the  End,  while  Purpose  is  of  the  Means ; 
moreover,  we  sometimes  wish  for  impossibilities,  known  as 
such,  but  we  never  purpose  them.  Nor  is  purpose  identical 
with  opinion  (^o^fi)^  which  relates  to  truth  and  falsehood,  not 
to  virtue  and  vice.  It  is  among  our  voluntary  proceedings, 
and  includes  intelligence ;  but  is  it  identical  with  pre-deli- 
berated  action  and  its  results?  (II.) 

To  answer  this  query,  Aristotle  analyzes  the  process  of 
Deliberation,  as  to  its  scope,  and  its  mode  of  operation.  We 
exclude  from  deliberation  things  Eternal,  like  the  Kosmos, 
or  the  incommensurability  of  the  side  and  the  diagonal  of  a 
square ;  also  things  mutable,  that  are  regulated  by  necessity, 
by  nature,  or  by  chance ;  things  out  of  our  power ;  also  final 
ends  of  action,  for  we  deliberate  only  about  the  means  to  ends. 
The  deliberative  process  is  compared  to  the  investigation  of  a 
geometrical  problem.  We  assume  the  end,  and  enquire  by 
what  means  it  can  be  produced  ;  then  again,  what  will  pro- 
duce the  means,  until  we  at  last  reach  something  that  we  our- 
selves can  command.  If,  after  such  deliberation,  we  see  our 
way  to  execution,  we  form  a  Purpose,  or  Deliberate  Preference 
{■n-jwaipeiji'i').  Purpose  is  then  definable  as  a  deliberative 
appetency  of  things  in  our  power  (III.). 

Next  is  started  the  important  question  as  to  the  choice  of 
the  final  JE'7?cZ.  Deliberation  and  Purpose  respect  means ;  our 
Wish  respects  the  End — but  what  is  the  End  that  we  wish  ? 
Two  opinions  are  noticed ;  according  to  one  (Plato)  we  are 
moved  to  the  good ;  according  to  the  other,  to  the  apparent 
good.     Both  opinions  are  unsatisfactory  ;  the  one  would  make 


VIRTUE   AND   VICE   AKE   VOLUNTARY.  73 

out  an  incorrect  choice  to  be  no  choice  at  all ;  the  other  would 
take  away  all  constancy  from  ends. 

Aristotle  settles  the  point  by  distino-uishing,  in  this  case 
as  in  others,  be r, ween  what  bears  a  given  character  simply 
and  absolutely,  and  what  bears  the  same  character  relatively 
to  this  or  that  individual.  The  object  of  Wish,  simply, 
truly,  and  absolutely,  is  the  Good;  while  the  object  of  Wish, 
to  any  given  individual,  is  what  appears  Good  to  him.  But 
by  the  Absolute  here,  Aristotle  explains  that  he  means  what 
appears  good  to  the  virtuous  and  intelligent  man  ;  who  is 
is  declared,  here  as  elsewhere,  to  be  t^  e  infallible  standard; 
while  most  men,  misled  by  pleasure,  choose  what  is  not  truly 
good.  In  like  manner,  Aristotle  affirms,  th^t  those  substances 
are  truly  and  absolutely  wholesome,  which  are  wholesome  to 
the  healthy  and  well-constituted  man  ;  other  substances  may 
be  wholesome  to  the  sick  or  degenerate.  Aristotle's  Absolute 
is  thus  a  Relative  with  its  correlate  chosen  or  imagi.ned  by 
himself. 

He  then  proceeds  to  maintain  that  virtue  and  vice  are 
voluntary,  and  in  our  own  power.  The  arguments  are  these. 
(1)  If  it  be  in  our  power  to  act  right,  the  contrary  is 
equally  in  our  own  power ;  hence  vice  is  as  much  volun- 
tary as  virtue.  (2)  Man  must  be  admitted  to  be  the  origin 
of  his  own  actions.  (3)  Legislators  and  others  punish 
men  for  wickedness,  and  confer  honour  on  good  actions ; 
even  culpable  ignorance  and  negligence  are  punished.  (4) 
Our  character  itself,  or  our  fixed  acquirements,  are  in  our 
power,  being  produced  by  our  successive  acts  ;  men  be- 
come intemperate,  by  acts  of  drunkenness.  (5)  Not  only 
the  defects  of  the  mind,  but  the  infirmities  of  the  body 
also,  are  blamed,  when  arising  through  our  own  neglect  and 
want  of  training.  (6)  Even  if  it  should  be  said  that  all  men 
aim  at  the  apparent  good,  but  cannot  control  their  mode 
of  conceiving  (^(pavrnata)  the  end;  still  each  person,  being  by 
his  acts  the  cause  of  his  own  fixed  acquirements,  must  be  to  a 
certain  extent  the  cause  of  his  own  conceptions.  On  this  head, 
too,  Aristotle  repeats  the  clenching  argument,  that  the  sup- 
posed imbecility  of  conceiving  would  apply  alike  to  virtue  and 
to  vice ;  so  that  if  virtuous  action  be  regarded  as  voluntary, 
vicious  action  must  be  so  regarded  likewise.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  a  man's  fixed  acquirements  or  habits  are  not 
in  his  own  power,  in  the  same  sense  and  degree  in  which  bis 
separate  acts  are  in  his  own  power.  Each  act,  from  first  to 
last,  is  alike  in  his  power ;  but  in  regard  to  the  habit,  it  is 
4 


74  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

only  ihe  initiation  thereof  that  is  thorous^hlj  in  his  power; 
the  habit,  like  a  distemper,  is  taken  on  by  imperceptible  steps 
in  advance  (V.)- 

[In  the  foregoino^  account  of  the  Ethical  questions  con- 
nected with  the  Will,  Aristotle  is  happily  nnembroiled  with 
the  modern  controversy.  The  m-al-apropos  of  '  Freedom  '  had 
not  been  applied  to  voluntary  action.  Accordingly,  he  treats 
the  whole  question  from  the  inductive  side,  distinguishing  the 
cases  where  people  are  praised  or  blamed  for  their  conduct, 
from  those  where  praise  and  blame  are  inapplicable  as  being 
powerless.  It  would  have  been  well  if  the  method  had  never 
been  departed  from ;  a  sound  Psychology  would  have  im- 
proved the  induction,  but  would  never  have  introduced  any 
question  except  as  to  the  reliitive  strength  of  the  different 
i'eelings  operating  as  motives  to  voluntary  conduct. 

In  one  part  of  his  argument,  however,  where  he  maintains 
that  vice  must  be  voluntary,  because  its  opposite,  virtue,  is 
voluntary,  he  is  already  touching  on  the  magical  island  of  the 
bad  enchantress ;  allowing  a  question  of  fact  to  be  swayed 
by  the  notion  of  factitious  dignity.  Virtue  is  assumed  to  be 
voluntary,  not  on  the  evidence  of  fact,  but  because  there  would 
be  an  indignity  cast  on  it,  to  suppose  otherwise.  Now,  this 
consideration,  which  Aristotle  gives  way  to  on  various  occa- 
sions, is  the  motive  underlying  the  objectionable  metaphor.] 

After  the  preceding  digression  on  the  Voluntary  and  In- 
voluntary, Aristotle  takes  up  the  consideration  of  the  Virtues 
in  order,  beginning  with  Couragbj,  which  was  one  of  the 
received  cardinal  virtues,  and  a  subject  of  frequent  discussion. 
(Plato,  Laches,  Protagoras,  Bejmhlic,  &c.) 

Courage  (oi/C/)t/a),  the  mean  between  timidity  and  fool- 
hardiness,  has  to  do  with  evils.  All  evils  are  objects  of  fear ; 
but  there  are  some  evils  that  even  the  brave  man  does  right  to 
fear — as  disgrace.  Poverty  or  disease  he  ought  not  to  fear.  Yet, 
he  will  not  acquire  the  reputation  of  courage  from  not  fearing 
these,  nor  will  he  acquire  it  if  he  be  exempt  from  fear  when 
about  to  be  scourged.  Again,  if  a  man  be  afraid  of  envy  from 
others,  or  of  insults  to  his  children  or  wife,  he  will  not  for  thac 
reason  be  regarded  as  a  coward.  It  is  by  being  superior  to  the 
fear  of  great  evils,  that  a  man  is  extolled  as  courageous ;  and 
the  greatest  of  evils  is  death,  since  it  is  a  final  close,  as  well  of 
good  as  of  evil.  Hence  the  dangers  of  war  are  the  greatest 
occasion  of  courage.    But  the  cause  must  be  honourable  (VI.  •. 

Thus  the  key  to  true  courage  is  the  quality  or  merit  of  the 
action.      That  man  is  brave,  who  both   fears,    and   affronts 


COURAGE   INCLUDES    SELF-SACRIFICE.  75 

without  fear,  what  he  ought  and  when  he  ought :  who  suffers 
and  acts  according  to  the  value  of  the  cause,  and  according  to 
a  right  judgment  of  it.  The  opp^sites  or  extremes  of  courage 
include  (1)  Deficiency  of  fear;  (2)  Excess  of  fear,  cowardice ; 
(8)  Deficiency  of  daring,  another  formula  for  cowardice  ;  (4) 
Excess  of  daring,  Rashness.  Between  these.  Courage  is  the 
mean  (VIL). 

Aristotle  enumerates  fi.ve  analogous  forms  of  quasi-courage, 
approaching  more  or  less  to  '.:enuine  courage.  (1)  The  first, 
most  like  to  the  true,  is  political  courage,  which  is  moved  to 
encounter  danger  by  the  Punishments  and  the  Honours  of 
society.  The  desire  of  honour  rises  to  virtue,  and  is  a  noble 
spring  of  action.  (2)  A  second  kind  is  the  effect  of  Experi- 
ence, which  dispels  seeming  terrors,  and  gives  skill  to  meet 
real  danger.  (8)  Ajiger,  Spirit,  Energy  {Ov/x6<i)  is  a  species  of 
courage,  founded  on  physical  power  and  excitement,  but  not 
under  the  guidance  of  high  emotions.  (4)  The  Sanguine 
temperament,  by  overrating  the  chances  of  success,  gives 
courage.  (5)  Lastly,  Ignorance  of  the  danger  may  have  the 
same  effect  as  courage  (VIII.). 

Courage  is  mainly  connected  with  pain  and  loss.  Men 
are  called  brave  for  the  endurance  of  pain,  even  although  it 
bring  pleasure  in  the  end,  as  to  the  boxer  who  endures  bruises 
from  the  hope  of  honour.  Death  is  painful,  and  most  so  to 
the  man  that  by  his  virtue  has  made  life  valuable.  Such  a 
man  is  to  be  considered  more  courageous,  as  a  soldier,  than  a 
mercenary  with  little  to  lose  (IX.). 

[The  account  of  Courage  thus  given  is  remarkably  ex- 
haustive ;  although  the  constituent  parts  might  have  been 
more  carefully  disentangled.  A  clear  line  should  be  drawn 
between  two  aspects  of  courage.  The  one  is  the  resistance 
to  Fear  properly  so  called ;  that  is,  to  the  perturbation  that 
exaggerates  coming  evil :  a  courageous  man,  in  this  sense,  is 
one  that  possesses  the  true  measure  of  impending  danger,  and 
acts  according  to  that,  and  not  according  to  an  excessive 
measure.  The  other  aspect  of  Courage,  is  what  gives  it  all 
its  nobleness  as  a  virtue,  namely.  Self-sacrifice,  or  the  de- 
liberate encountering  of  evil,  for  some  honourable  or  virtuous 
cause.  When  a  man  knowingly  risks  his  life  in  battle  for  his 
country,  he  may  be  called  courageous,  but  he  is  still  better 
described  as  a  heroic  and  devoted  man. 

Inasmuch  as  the  leading  form  of  heroic  devotion,  in  the 
ancient  world,  was  exposure  of  life  in  war.  Self-sacrifice  was 
presented  under  the  guise  of  Courage,  and  had  no  independent 


76  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS  — AKISTOTLE. 

standing  as  a  cardinal  virtue.  From  this  circumstance, 
paganism  is  made  to  appear  iu  a  somewhat  disadvantageous 
light,  as  regards  self-denying  dutietf.] 

Next  in  order  among  the  excellences  or  virtues  of  the 
irrational  department  of  mind  is  Temperance,  or  Moderation, 
(atvcpfjoovi'Tj^,  a  mean  or  middle  state  in  the  enjoyment  of  plea- 
sure. Pleasures  are  mental  and  bodily.  With  the  mental,  as 
love  of  learning  or  of  honour,  temperance  is  not  concerned. 
Nor  with  the  bodily  pleasures  of  muscu'ir  exercise,  of  hearing 
and  of  smell,  but  only  with  the  animal  pleasures  of  touch  and 
taste:  in  fact,  sensuality  resides  in  touch;  the  pleasure  of 
eating  being  a  mode  ol'  contact  (X.). 

In  the  desires  natural  and  common  to  men,  as  eating  and 
the  nuptial  couch,  men  are  given  to  err,  and  error  is  usually  on 
the  side  of  excess.  But  it  is  in  the  case  of  special  tastes  or  pre- 
ferences, that  people  are  most  frequently  intemperate.  Tem- 
perance does  not  apply  to  enduring  pains,  except  those  of 
abstinence  from  pleasures.  The  extreme  of  insensibility  to 
pleasure  is  rarely  found,  and  has  no  name.  The  temperate 
man  has  the  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain,  but  moderates  his 
desires  according  to  right  reason  (XL).  He  desires  what  he 
ought,  when  he  ought,  and  as  he  ought :  correctly  estimating 
each  separate  case  (XII.).  The  question  is  raised,  which  is  most 
voluntary,  Cowardice  or  Intemperance?  (1)  Intemperance 
is  more  voluntary  than  Cowardice,  for  the  one  consists  in 
choosing  pleasure,  while  in  the  other  there  is  a  sort  of  com- 
pulsory avoidance  of  pain.  (2)  Temperance  is  easier  to 
acquire  as  a  habit  than  Courage.  (3)  In  Intemperance,  the 
particular  acts  are  voluntary,  although  not  the  habit;  in 
Cowardice,  the  first  acts  are  involuntary,  while  by  habit,  it 
tends  to  become  voluntary  (XII.). 

[Temperance  is  the  virtue  most  suited  to  the  formula  of 
the  Mean,  although  the  settling  of  what  is  the  mean  depends 
after  all  upon  a  man's  own  judgment.  Aristotle  does  not 
recognize  asceticism  as  a  thing  existing.  His  Temperance  is 
moderation  in  the  sensual  pleasures  of  eating  and  love.] 

Book  Fourth  proceeds  with  the  examination  of  the  Vir- 
tues or  Ethical  Excellences. 

Liberality  (6\6w%no'T?;s>),  in  the  matter  of  property,  is  the 
mean  of  Prodigality  and  II liberality.  The  right  uses  of 
money  are  spending  and  giving.  Liberality  consists  in  giving 
willingly,  from  an  honourable  motive,  to  proper  persons,  in 
proper  quantities,  and  at  proper  times ;  each  individual  case 
being  measured  by  correct  reason.     If  such  measure  be  not 


LIBERALITY. — MAGXIFICENC  K. — MAGNANIMITY.  77 

taken,  or  if  the  gift  be  not  made  willingly,  it  is  not  liberality. 
The  liberal  man  is  often  so  free  as  to  leave  little  to  himself. 
This  virtue  is  one  more  frequent  in  the  inheritors  than  in  the 
makers  of  fortunes.  Liberality  beyond  one's  means  is  prodi- 
gality. The  liberal  man  will  receive  only  from  proper  sources 
and  in  proper  quantities.  Of  the  extremes,  prodigality  is 
more  curable  than  illiberality.  The  faults  of  prodigality  are, 
that  it  must  derive  supplies  from  improper  sources;  that  it 
gives  to  the  wrong  objects,  and  is  usually  accompanied  with 
intemperance.  Illiberality  is  incurable  :  it  is  confirmed  by 
age,  and  is  more  congenial  to  men  generally  than  prodigality. 
Some  of  the  illiberal  fall  short  in  giving — those  called  stingy, 
close-fisted,  and  so  on  ;  but  do  not  desire  what  belongs  to 
other  people.  Others  are  excessive  in  receiving  from  all 
sources  ;  such  are  they  that  ply  disreputable  trades  (I.). 

Magnificence  (/ne~i(i\o7rpe7rec'a)  is  a  grander  kind  of  Liber- 
ality ;  its  characteristic  is  greatness  of  expenditure,  with  suit- 
ableness to  the  person,  the  circumstances,  and  the  purpose. 
The  magnificent  man  takes  correct  measure  of  each ;  he  is  in 
his  wav  a  man  of  science  (o  ^e  ixe^iaXoTrpeiri^^  iTria-Triixovi  eome — 
II.).  The'  motive  must  be  honourable,  the  outlay  unstinted, 
and  the  effect  artistically  splendid.  -The  service  of  the  gods, 
hospitality  to  foreigners,  public  works,  and  gifts,  are  proper 
occasions.  Magnificence  especially  becomes  the  well-born 
and  the  illustrious.  The  house  of  the  magnificent  man  will 
be  of  suitable  splendour ;  everything  that  he  does  will  show 
taste  and  propriety.  The  extremes,  or  corresponding  defects 
of  character,  are,  on  the  one  side,  vulgar,  tasteless  profusion, 
and  on  the  other,  meanness  or  pettiness,  which  for  some 
paltry  saving  will  spoil  the  effect  of  a  great  outlay  (II.). 

Magnanimity,  or  High-mindedness  {fxe^iaXoylrvxtci),  loftiness 
of  spirit,  is  the  culmination  of  the  virtues.  It  is  concerned 
with  greatness.  The  high-minded  man  is  one  that,  being 
worthy,  rates  himself  at  his  real  worth,  and  neither  more 
(which  is  vanity)  nor  less  (which  is  littleness  of  mind).  Now, 
worth  has  reference  to  external  goods,  of  which  the  greatest  is 
honour.  The  high-minded  man  must  be  in  the  highest  degree 
honourable,  for  which  he  must  be  a  good  man ;  honour  being 
the  prize  of  virtue.  He  will  accept  honour  only  from  the  good, 
and  will  despise  dishonour,  knowing  it  to  be  undeserved.  In 
all  good  or  bad  fortune,  he  will  behave  with  moderation ;  in 
not  highly  valuing  even  the  highest  thing  of  all,  honour  itself, 
he  may  seem  to  others  supercilious.  Wealth  and  fortune  contri- 
bute to  high-mindedness  ;  but  most  of  all,  superior  goodness; 


78  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 


Im  1 


for  the  character  cannot  exist  without  perfect  virtue.  The 
high-minded  man  neither  shuns  nor  conns  danger;  nor  is  he 
indisposed  to  risk  even  his  Hfe.  He  gives  favours,  but  does 
not  accept  them ;  he  is  proud  to  the  great,  but  affable  to  the 
lowly.  He  attempts  only  great  and  important  matters ;  is 
open  in  friendship  and  in  hatred  ;  truthful  in  conduct,  with  an 
ironical  reserve.  He  talks  little,  either  of  himself  or  of  others  ; 
neither  desiring  his  own  praise,  nor  caring  to  utter  blame. 
He  wonders  at  nothing,  bears  no  malice,  is  no  gossip,  llis 
movements  are  slow,  his  voice  deep,  his  diction  stately  (III.). 

There  is  a  nameless  virtue,  a  mean  between  the  two 
extremes  of  too  much  and  too  little  ambition,  or  desire  of 
honour ;  the  reference  being  to  smaller  matters  and  to  ordi- 
nary men.  The  fact  that  both  extremes  are  made  terms  of 
reproach,  shows  that  there  is  a  just  mean  ;  while  each  extreme 
alternately  claims  to  be  the  virtue,  as  against  the  other,  since 
there  is  no  term  to  express  the  mean  (IV.). 

Mildness  {Trpaon^^)  is  a  mean  state  with  reference  to  Anger, 
although  inclining  to  the  defective  side.  The  exact  mean, 
which  has  no  current  name,  is  that  state  wherein  the  agent 
is  free  from  perturbation  (ot^yjo;^©?),  is  not  impelled  by  pas- 
sion, but  guided  by  reason ;  is  angry  when  he  ought,  as 
he  ought,  with  whom,  and  as  long  as,  he  ought:  taking 
right  measure  of  all  the  circumstances.  Not  to  Idc  angry  on 
the  proper  provocation,  is  folly,  insensibility,  slavish  sub- 
mission. Of  those  given  to  excess  in  anger,  some  are  quick, 
impetuous,  and  soon  appeased;  others  are  sulky,  repressing 
and  perpetuating  their  resentment.  It  is  not  easy  to  define 
the  exact  mean ;  each  case  must  be  left  to  individual  per- 
ception (V.). 

The  next  virtue  is  Good-breeding  in  society,  a  balance 
between  surliness  on  the  one  hand,  and  weak  assent  or  inter- 
ested flattery  on  the  other.  It  is  a  nameless  virtue,  resem- 
bling friendship  without  the  special  affection.  Aristotle 
shows  what  he  considers  the  bearingf  of  the  finished  e^entle- 
man,  studying  to  give  pleasure,  and  jet  expressing  disappro- 
bation when  it  would  be  wrong  to  do  otherwise  (VI.). 

Closely  allied  to  the  foregoing  is  the  observance  of  a  due 
mean,  in  the  matter  of  Boastfulness.  The  boastful  lay  claim 
to  what  they  do  not  possess ;  false  modesty  (etpwinia)  is  deny- 
ing or  underrating  one's  own  merits.  The  balance  of  the 
two  is  the  straightforward  and  truthful  character  ;  asserting 
just  what  belongs  to  him,  neither  more  nor  less.  This  is  a 
kind  of  truthfulness, — distinguished  from  '  truth'  in  its  more 


JUSTICE— DISTKIBUTIVE   AND   CORRECTIVE.  79 

Berions  aspect,  as  discriminating  between  justice  and  injustice 
— and  has  a  worth  of  its  own  ;  for  he  that  is  truthful  in  little 
things  will  be  so  in  more  important  affairs  (VII.). 

In  the  playful  intercourse  of  society,  there  is  room  for 
the  virtue  of  Wit,  a  balance  or  mean  between  buffoonish 
excess,  and  the  clownish  dulness  that  can  neither  make  nor 
enjoy  a  joke.  Here  the  man  of  refinement  must  be  a  law  to 
himself  (VIII.). 

Modesty  (alcw^)  is  briefly  described,  without  being  put 
through  the  comparison  with  its  extremes.  It  is  more  a 
feeling  than  a  state,  or  settled  habit.  It  is  the  fear  of  ill- 
report  ;  and  has  the  physical  expression  of  fear  under  danger 
— the  blushing  and  the  pallor.  It  befits  youth  as  the  age  of 
passion  and  of  errors.  In  the  old  it  is  no  virtue,  as  they 
should  do  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  (IX.). 

Book  Fifth  (the  first  of  the  so-called  Eudemian  books), 
treats  of  Justice,  the  Social  virtue  by  pre-eminence.  Justice 
as  a  virtue  is  defined,  the  state  of  mind,  or  moral  disposition, 
to  do  what  is  just.  The  question  then  is  —what  is  the  just  and 
the  unjust  in  action?  The  words  seem  to  have  more  senses 
than  one.  The  just  may  be  (1)  the  Lawful,  what  is  estab- 
lished by  law;  which  includes,  therefore,  all  obedience,  and  all 
moral  virtue  (for  every  kind  of  conduct  came  under  public 
regulation,  in  the  legislation  of  Plato  and  Aristotle).  Or  (2) 
the  just  may  be  restricted  to  the  fair  and  equitable  as  regards 
property.  In  both  senses,  however,  justice  concerns  our  be- 
haviour to  some  one  else :  and  it  thus  stands  apart  from  the 
other  virtues,  as  (essentially  and  in  its  first  character)  seeking 
another's  good — not  the  good  of  the  agent  himself  (I.). 

The  first  kind  of  justice,  which  includes  all  virtue,  called 
Universal  Justice,  being  set  aside,  the  enquiry  is  reduced  to 
the  Particular  Justice,  or  Justice  proper  and  distinctive.  Of 
this  there  are  two  kinds.  Distributive  and  Corrective  (II.) • 
Distributive  Justice  is  a  kind  of  equality  or  proportion  in  the 
distribution  of  property,  honours,  &c.,  in  the  State,  according 
to  the  merits  of  each  citizen  ;  the  standard  of  worth  or  merit 
being  settled  by  the  constitution,  whether  democratic,  oli- 
garchic, or  aristocratic  (HI.).  Corrective,  or  Keparative 
Justice  takes  no  account  of  persons ;  but,  looking  at  cases 
where  unjust  loss  or  gain  has  occurred,  aims  to  restore  the 
balance,  by  striking  an  arithmetical  mean  (IV.).  The  Pytha- 
gorean idea,  that  Justice  is  Retaliation,  is  inadequate ;  pro- 
portion and  other  circumstances  must  be  included.  Propor- 
tionate Retaliation,  or  Reciprocity  of  services, — as  in  the  case 


80  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

of  Commercial  Exchange,  meastired  throngh  the  instrument 
of  money,  with  its  definite  value, — is  set  forth  as  the  great 
bond  of  society.  Just  dealing  is  the  mean  between  doing 
injustice  and  suffering  injustice  (V.).  Justice  is  definitely 
connected  with  Law,  and  exists  only  between  citizens  of  the 
State,  and  not  between  father  and  children,  master  and  slave, 
between  whom  there  is  no  law  proper,  but  only  a  sort  of  rela- 
tion analogous  to  law  (VI.).  Civil  Justice  is  partly  Natural, 
partly  conventional.  The  natural  is  what  has  the  same 
force  everywhere,  whether  accepted  or  not ;  the  conventional 
varies  with  institutions,  acquirins-  all  its  force  from  adoption 
by  law,  and  being  in  itself  a  matter  of  indifference  prior  to 
such  adoption.  Some  persons  regard  all  Justice  as  thus 
conventional.  They  say — '  What  exists  by  nature  is  un- 
changeable, and  has  everywhere  the  same  power ;  for  example, 
fire  burns  alike  in  Persia  and  here ;  but  we  see  regulations  of 
justice  often  varied — differing  here  and  there,'  This,  however, 
is  not  exactly  the  fact,  though  to  a  certain  extent  it  is  the 
fact.  Among  the  gods  indeed,  it  perhaps  is  not  the  fact  at 
all :  but  among  men,  it  is  true  that  there  exists  something  by 
nature  changeable,  though  everything  is  not  so.  Neverthe- 
less, there  are  some  things  existing  by  nature,  other  things 
not  by  nature.  And  we  can  plainly  see,  among  those  matters 
that  admit  of  opposite  arrangement,  which  of  them  belong 
to  nature  and  which  to  law  and  convention  ;  and  the  same 
distinction  will  tit  in  other  cases  also.  Thus  the  right  hand 
is  by  nature  more  powerful  than  the  left ;  yet  it  is  possible 
that  all  men  may  become  ambidextrous.  Those  regulations 
of  justice  that  are  not  by  nature,  but  by  human  appointment, 
are  not  the  same  everywhere ;  nor  is  the  political  constitution 
everywhere  the  same  ;  yet  there  is  one  political  constitution 
only  that  is  by  nature  the  best  everywhere  (VI f.). 

To  constitute  Justice  and  Injustice  in  acts,  the  acts  must 
be  voluntary ;  there  being  degrees  of  culpability  in  injustice 
according  to  the  intention,  the  premeditation,  the  greater  or 
less  knowledge  of  circumstances.  The  act  that  a  person 
does  may  perhaps  be  unjust ;  but  he  is  not,  on  that  account, 
always  to  be  regarded  as  an  unjust  man  (VIII.). 

Here  a  question  arises,  Can  one  be  injured  voluntarily  ?  It 
seems  not,  for  what  a  man  consents  to  is  not  injury.  Nor  can 
a  person  injure  himself.  Injury  is  a  relationship  between  two 
pai^ties  (IX.).  Equity  does  not  contradict,  or  set  aside, 
Justice,  but  is  a  higher  and  finer  kind  of  justice,  coming  in 
where  the  law  is  too  rough  and  general. 


THE   INTELLECTUAL   EXCELLENCES    OR   VIRTUES.  81 

Book  Sixth  treats  of  Intellectual  Excellence^,  (v  Virtues 
of  the  Intellect.  It  thus  follows  out  the  large  definition  of 
virtue  qiven  at  the  outset,  and  repeated  m  detail  as  coucernu 
each  of  the  ethical  or  moral  virtues  successively. 

According-  to  the  views  most  received  at  present,  Morality 
is  an  affair  of  conscience  and  sentiment ;  little  or  nothing  ia 
said  about  estimating  the  full  circumstances  and  consequences 
of  each  act,  except  that  there  is  no  time  to  calculate  correctly, 
and  that  the  attempt  to  do  so  is  generally  a  pretence  for  evad- 
ing the  peremptory  order  of  virtuous  sentiment,  which,  if  faith- 
fully obeyed,  ensures  vdrtuous  action  in  each  particular  case. 
If  these  views  be  adopted,  an  investigation  of  our  intellectual 
excellences  would  find  no  place  in  a  treatise  on  Ethics.  But 
the  theory  of  Aristotle  is  altogether  different.  Though  be 
recognizes  Emotion  and  Intellect  as  inseparably  implicated 
in  the  mind  of  Ethical  agents,  yet  the  sovereign  authority 
that  he  proclaims  is  not  Conscience  or  Sentiment,  but 
Reason.  The  subordination  of  Sentiment  to  Reason  is  with 
him  essential.  Jt  is  true  that  Reason  must  be  supplied 
with  First  Principles,  whence  to  take  its  start;  and  these 
First  Principles  are  here  declared  to  be,  fixed  emotional  states 
or  dispositions,  engendered  in  the  mind  of  the  agent  by  a  suc- 
cession of  similar  acts.  But  even  these  dispositions  them- 
selves, though  not  belonging  to  the  department  of  Reason,  are 
not  exempt  from  the  challenge  and  scrutiny  of  Reason ;  while 
the  proper  application  of  the-n  in  act  to  the  complicated 
realities  of  life,  is  the  work  of  Reason  altogether.  Such  an 
ethical  theory  calls  upon  Aristotle  to  indicate,  more  or  less 
fully,  those  intellectual  excellences,  whereby  alone  we  are 
enabled  to  overcome  the  inherent  diflB.culties  of  right  ethical 
conduct ;  and  he  indicates  them  in  the  present  Book,  compar- 
ino-  them  with  those  other  intellectual  excellences  which  guide 
our  theoretical  investigations,  where  conduct  is  not  directly 
concerned. 

In  specifying  the  ethical  excellences,  or  excellences  of  dis- 
position, we  explained  that  each  of  them  aimed  to  realize  a 
mean— and  that  this  mean  was  to  be  determined  by  Right 
Reason.  To  find  the  mean,  is  thus  an  operation  of  the  Intel- 
lect ;  and  we  have  now  to  explain  what  tlie  right  performance 
of  it  is, — or  to  enter  upon  the  Excellences  of  the  Intellect. 
The  soul  having  been  divided  into  Irrational  and  Rational, 
the  Rational  must  farther  be  divided  into  two  parts, — the 
Scientific  (dealing  with  necessary  matter),  the  Calculative,  or 
Deliberative   (dealing   with  contingent   matter).       We   must 


82  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

touch  upon  the  excellence  or  best  condition  of  both  of  them  (T.). 
There  are  three  principal  functions  of  the  soul — Sensation, 
Reason,  and  Appetite  or  Desire.  Now,  Sensation  (which 
beasts  have  as  well  as  men)  is  not  a  principle  of  moral  action. 
The  Reason  regards  truth  and  falsehood  only;  it  does  not 
move  to  action,  it  is  not  an  end  in  itself.  Appetite  or  Desire, 
which  aims  at  an  end,  introduces  us  to  moral  action.  Truth 
and  Falsehood,  as  regards  Reason,  correspond  to  Good  and  Evil 
as  regards  Appetite  :  Affirmation  and  Negation,  with  the  first, 
are  the  analogues  of  Pursuit  and  Avoidance,  with  the  second. 
In  purpose,  which  is  the  principle  of  moral  action,  there  is 
included  deliberation  or  calculation.  Reason  and  Appetite  are 
thus  combined  ;  Good  Purpose  comprises  both  true  affirmation 
and  right  pursuit :  you  may  call  it  either  an  Intelligent  Appe- 
tite, or  an  Appetitive  Intelligence.     Such  is  man,  as  a  principle 

of  action  (?y  Toiaviij  ap-y^Yi  av6pu)7ro<s^. 

Science  has  to  do  with  the  necessary  and  the  eternal ;  it 
is  teachable,  but  teachable  always  from  prcecognita,  or  prin- 
ciple?, obtained  by  induction  ;  from  which  principles,  conclu- 
sions are  demonstrated  by  syllogism  (III.).  Art,  or  Produc- 
tion, is  to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  action  or 
agency  that  belongs  to  man  as  an  ethical  agent,  and  that 
does  not  terminate  in  any  separate  assignable  product.  But 
both  the  one  and  the  other  deal  with  contingent  matters 
only.  Art  deals  for  the  most  part  with  the  same  matters 
as   are  subject   to   the   intervention    of  Fortune   or   Chance 

Prudence  or  Judiciousness  (cppovijcji^',  the  quality  of  o 
<pf}dvifio'i),  the  Practical  Reason,  comes  next.  We  are  told 
what  are  the  matters  wherewith  it  is,  and  wherewith  it 
IS  not,  conversant.  It  does  not  deal  with  matters  wherein 
there  exist  art,  or  with  rules  of  art.  It  does  not  deal  with 
necessary  matters,  nor  with  matters  not  modifiable  by  human 
agency.  The  prudent  or  judicious  man  is  one  who  (like 
Pericles)  can  accurately  estimate  and  foresee  matters  (apart 
from  Science  and  Art)  such  as  are  good  or  evil  for  him- 
self and  other  human  beings.  On  these  matters,  feelings  of 
pleasure  or  pain  are  apt  to  bias  the  mind,  by  insinuating 
wrong  aims  ;  which  they  do  not  do  in  regard  to  the  properties 
of  a  triangle  and  other  scientific  conclusions.  To  guard 
against  such  bias,  the  judicious  man  must  be  armed  with  the 
ethical  excellence  described  above  as  Temperance  or  Modera- 
tion. Judiciousness  is  not  an  Art,  admitting  of  better  and 
worse;  there  are  not  good  judicious  men,  and  bad  judicious 


THE  INTELLECTUAL   ELEMENT  IN   MOEAL  "VIRTUE.       83 

men,  as  there  are  good  and  bad  artists.  Judicionsness  is 
itself  an  excellence  (i.e.  the  term  connotes  excellence) — 
an  excellence  of  the  rational  soul,  and  of  that  branch 
of  the  rational  soul  which  is  calculating,  deliberative,  not 
scientific  (V.).  Reason  or  Intellect  (i/o<)§)  is  the  faculty 
for  apprehending  the  first  principles  of  demonstrative  science. 
It  is  among  the  infallible  faculties  of  the  mind,  together 
with  Judiciousness,  Science,  and  Philosophy.  Each  of 
these  terms  connotes  truth  and  accuracy  (VI.).  Wisdom  in 
the  arts  is  the  privilege  of  the  superlative  artists,  such  as 
Phidias  in  sculpture.  But  there  are  some  men  wise,  not  in 
any  special  art,  but  absolutely  ;  and  this  wisdom  (aocpia)  is 
Philosophy.  It  embraces  both  principles  of  science  (which 
Aristotle  considers  to  come  under  the  review  of  the  First 
Philosophy)  aud  deductions  therefrom  ;  it  is  vov<i  and  eTriaTJ/itrj 
in  one.  It  is  more  venerable  and  dignified  than  Prudence  or 
Judiciousness ;  because  its  objects,  the  Kosmos  and  the  celes- 
tial bodies,  are  far  more  glorious  than  man,  with  whose  in- 
terests alone  Prudence  is  concerned  ;  and  also  because  the 
celestial  objects  are  eternal  and  unvarying ;  while  man  and 
his  affairs  are  transitory  and  ever  fluctuating.  Hence  the 
great  honour  paid  to  Thales,  Anaxagoras,  and  others,  who 
speculated  on  theories  thus  magnificent  and  superhuman, 
though  useless  in  respect  to  human  good. 

We  have  already  said  that  Prudenco  or  Judiciousness  is 
good  counsel  on  human  interests,  with  a  view  to  action.  But 
we  must  also  add  that  it  comprises  a  knowledge  not  of  uni- 
versals  merel}^,  but  also  of  particulars  ;  and  experienced  men, 
much  conversant  with  particulars,  are  often  better  qualified  for 
action  than  inexperienced  men  of  science  (VII.).  Prudence 
is  the  same  in  its  intellectual  basis  as  the  political  science  or 
art — yet  looked  at  in  a  different  aspect.  Both  of  them  are 
practical  and  consultative,  respecting  matters  of  human  good 
and  evil ;  but  prudence,  in  the  stricter  sense  of  the  word,  con- 
cerns more  especially  the  individual  self ;  still,  the  welfare  of 
the  individual  is  perhaps  inseparable  from  household  and  state 
concerns.  Prudence  farther  implies  a  large  experience;  whence 
boys,  who  can  become  good  mathematicians,  cannot  have  prac- 
tical judgment  or  prudence.  In  consultation,  we  are  liable  to 
error  both  in  regard  to  universals,  and  in  regard  to  particulars  ; 
it  is  the  business  of  prudence,  as  well  as  of  the  political  science, 
to  guard  against  both.  That  prudence  is  not  identical  with 
Science,  is  plain  enough  ;  for  Science  is  the  intermediate  pro- 
cess between  the   first  principles  and  the  last  conclusions; 


84:  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

whereas  prudence  consists  chiefly  in  seizing  these  last,  which 
are  the  applications  of  reasoning,  and  represent  the  particular 
acts  to  be  done.  Prudence  is  the  counterpart  of  Reason  (NoD?) 
or  Intellect,  but  at  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  mental  pro- 
cess. For  Intellect  (Not)?)  apprehends  the  extreme  Univer- 
sals, — the  first  principles, — themselves  not  deducible,  but  from 
which  deduction  starts  ;  while  Prudence  fastens  on  the  ex- 
treme particulars,  which  are  not  known  by  Science,  bat  by 
sensible  Perception.  We  mean  here  by  sensible  Perception, 
not  what  is  peculiar  to  any  of  the  five  senses,  but  wiiat  is 
common  to  them  all — whereby  we  perceive  that  the  triangle 
before  us  is  a  geometrical  ultimatum,  and  that  it  is  the 
final  subject  of  application  for  all  the  properties  previously 
demonstrated  to  belong  to  triangles  generally.  The  mind  will 
stop  here  in  the  downward  march  towards  practical  applica- 
tion, as  it  stopped  at  first  principles  in  the  upward  march. 
Prudence  becomes,  however,  confounded  with  sensible  per- 
ception, when  we  reach  this  stage.  [The  statement  here  given 
involves  Aristotle's  distinction  of  the  proper  and  the  common 
Sensibles  ;  a  shadowing  out  of  the  muscular  element  in  sensa- 
tion] (VIII.). 

Good  counsel  (ev/SovXia)  Is  distinguished  from  various 
other  qualities.  It  is,  in  substance,  choosing  right  means 
to  a  good  end ;  the  end  being  determined  by  the  great  faculty 
— Prudence  or  Judiciou'^ness  (IX.).  Sagacity  (avueffis)  is 
a  just  intellectual  mcabure  in  regard  to  the  business  of  life, 
individual  and  social ;  critical  ability  in  appreciating  and  in- 
terpreting the  phenomena  of  experience.  It  is  distinguished 
from  Prudence  in  this  respect — that  Prudence  carries  infer- 
ences into  Practice  (X.).  Considerateness  {^ivw^nj)  is  another 
intellectual  virtue,  with  a  practical  bearing.  It  is  that  virtue 
whereby  we  discern  the  proper  occasions  for  indulgent  con- 
struction, softening  the  rigour  of  logical  consistency.  It  is 
the  source  of  equitable  decisions. 

The  different  intellectual  excellences  just  named — Con- 
Biderateness,  Sagacity,  Prudence  (0/joV/;fT<s),  and  Intellect 
(Noi)?),  seem  all  to  bear  on  the  same  result,  and  are  for  the 
most  part  predicable  of  the  same  individuals.  All  of  them 
are  concerned  with  the  ultimate  applications  of  principle  to 
practice,  and  with  the  actual  moments  for  decision  and  action. 
Indeed,  Intellect  (Not)s)  deals  with  the  extremes  at  both  ends 
of  the  scale  :  with  the  highest  and  lowest  terms.  In  theoreti- 
cal science,  it  apprehends  and  sanctions  the  major  proposi- 
tions, the  first  and  highest  ^rincipia  of  demonstrations ;  in 


THEORY  OF  PKUDENCE.  85 

practical  dealinors,  it  estimates  the  minor  propositions  of  the 
sjllosrism,  the  possibilities  of  the  situation,  and  the  ultimate 
action  required.  All  these  are  the  principia  from  whence 
arises  the  determining  motive:  for  the  universal  is  always 
derived  from  particulars  ;  these  we  must  know  through  sen- 
sible perception,  which  is  in  this  case  the  same  thing  as  intel- 
lect (\of)'?).  Intellect  is  in  fact  both  the  beginning  and  the 
end :  it  cognizes  both  the  first  grounds  of  demonstration  and 
the  last  applications  of  the  results  of  demonstration.  A  man 
cannot  acquire  science  by  nature,  or  without  teaching :  but 
he  may  acquire  Intellect  and  Sagacity  by  nature,  simply 
through  long  life  and  abundant  experience.  The  afiirmations 
and  opinions  of  old  men  deserve  attention,  hardly  less  than 
demonstrations :  they  have  acquired  an  eye  from  experience, 
and  can  thus  see  the  practical  principles  (thousi:h  they  may 
not  be  able  to  lay  out  their  reasons  logically)  (XI.). 

But  an  objector  may  ask — Of  what  use  are  Philosophy 
and  Prudence  ?  He  may  take  such  grounds  as  these.  (1) 
Philosophy  has  no  practical  aim  at  all ;  nor  does  it  consiaer 
the  means  of  happiness  ?  (2)  Prudence,  though  bearing  on 
practice,  is  merely  knowledge,  and  does  not  ensure  right 
action.  (3)  Even  granting  the  knowledge  to  be  of  value  as 
direction,  it  might  be  obtained,  like  medical  knowledge,  from 
a  professional  adviser.  (4)  If  philosophy  is  better  than 
prudence,  why  does  prudence  control  philosophy  ?  We  have 
to  answer  these  doubts.  The  first  is  answered  by  asserting 
the  independent  value  of  philosophy  and  prudence,  as  perfec- 
tions of  our  nature,  and  as  sources  of  happiness  in  themselves. 
The  second  and  third  doubts  are  set  at  rest,  by  afiirming 
prudence  to  have  no  existence  apart  from  virtue.  Without  a 
virtuous  aim,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  Prudence :  there  is 
nothing  but  cleverness  degenerating  into  cunning  ;  while 
virtue  without  virtuous  prudence  is  nothing  better  than  a  mere 
instinct,  liable  to  be  misguided  in  every  way  (XII.). 

There  is  one  more  difficulty  to  be  cleared  up  respecting 
virtue.  All  our  dispositions,  and  therefore  all  our  ethical 
excellences,  come  to  us  in  a  certain  sense  by  nature ;  that  is, 
we  have  from  the  moment  of  birth  a  certain  aptitude  for 
becoming  temperate,  courageous,  just,  &c.  But  these  natural 
aptitudes  or  possessions  (^cpvacicai  e^€i<f)  are  something  alto- 
gether distinct  from  the  ethical  excellences  proper,  though 
capable  of  being  matured  into  them,  if  intellect  and  prudence 
be  superadded.  Sok rates  was  mistaken  in  resolving  all  the 
virtues  into  prudence ;   but  he  was  right  in  saying  that  none 


86  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS  -  ARISTOTLE. 

of  them  can  exist  without  prudence.  The  virtues  ought  to 
be  defined  as,  not  merely  ethical  dispositions  according  to  right 
reason,  but  ethical  dispositions  aloatj  ivitli  right  reason  or 
prudence  (i.e.^  prudence  is  an  ever  present  co-efficient).  It 
is  thus  abundantly  evident  that  none  but  a  prudent  man  can 
be  good,  and  none  but  a  good  man  can  be  prudent.  The 
virtues  are  separable  from  each  other,  so  far  as  the  natural 
aptitudes  are  concerned  :  a  man  may  have  greater  facility  for 
acquiring  one  than  another.  But  so  far  as  regards  the  finished 
acquirements  of  excellence,  in  virtue  of  which  a  man  is  called 
good — no  such  separation  is  possible.  All  of  them  alike  need 
the  companionship  of  Prudence  (XIII.). 

Book  Seventh  has  two  Parts.  Part  first  discusses  the 
grades  of  moral  strength  and  moral  weakness.  Part  second 
is  a  short  dissertation  on  Pleasure,  superseded  by  the  superior 
handling  of  the  subject  in  the  Tenth  Book. 

With  reference  to  moral  power,  in  self-restraint,  six 
grades  are  specified.  (1)  God-like  virtue,  or  reason  impelling 
as  well  as  directing.  (2)  The  highest  human  virtue,  ex- 
pressed by  Temperance  (cft»;0/>o(Ti'j/>/)— appetite  and  passion 
perfectly  harmonized  with  reason.  (3)  Continence  (er-/hpd7eia) 
or  the  mastery  of  reason,  after  a  struggle.  (4)  Incontinence, 
the  mastery  of  appetite  or  passion,  but  not  without  a  struggle. 
(5)  Vice,  reason  perverted  so  as  to  harmonize  entirely  with 
appetite  or  passion.  (6)  Bestiality,  naked  appetite  or  passion, 
without  reason.  Certain  prevalent  opinions  are  enumerated, 
which  are  to  form  the  subject  of  the  discussions  following — 
(1)  Continence  and  endurance  are  morally  good.  (2)  The 
Continent  man  sticks  to  his  opinion.  (3)  The  Incontinent 
err  knowingly.  (4)  Temperance  and  Continence  are  the 
same.  (5)  Wise  and  clever  men  may  be  Incontinent.  (6) 
Incontinence  applies  to  other  things  than  Pleasure,  as  anger, 
honour,  and  gain  (I.). 

The  third  point  (the  Incontinent  sin  knowingly)  is  first 
mooted.  Sokrates  held  the  contrary;  he  made  vice  and 
ignorance  convertible.  Others  think  that  the  knowledge 
possessed  by  the  incontinent  is  mere  opinion,  or  a  vague  and 
weak  conviction.  It  is  objected  to  No.  4,  that  continence 
implies  evil  desires  to  be  controlled ;  while  temperance 
means  the  character  fully  harmonized.  As  to  No.  2,  Con- 
tinence must  often  be  bad,  if  it  consists  in  sticking  to  an 
opinion  (II.). 

The  third  point,  the  only  question  of  real  interest  or  diffi- 
culty, is  resumed  at  greater  length.     The  distinction  between 


MORAI.   STRENGTH   AND   MORAL   WEAKNESS.  87 

knowledge  and  opinion  (the  liigher  and  the  lower  kinds  of 
knowledge)  does  not  settle  the  qnestion,  for  opinion  may  be 
as  strong  as  knowledge.  The  real  point  is,  what  is  meant  hj 
leaving  knowledge  ?  A  man's  knowledge  may  be  in  abeyance, 
as  it  is  when  he  is  asleep  or  intoxicated.  Thas,  we  may  have 
in  the  mind  two  knowledges  (like  two  separate  syllogisms), 
one  leading  to  continence,  the  other  to  incontinence ;  the  hrsb 
is  not  drawn  out,  like  the  syllogism  wanting  a  minor ;  hence 
it  may  be  said  to  be  not  present  to  the  mind ;  so  that,  in  a 
certain  sense,  Sokrates  was  right  in  denying  that  actual  and 
present  knowledge  could  be  overborne.  Vice  is  a  form  of 
oblivion  (HI.). 

The  next  question  is,  what  is  the  object-matter  of  incon- 
tinence;  whether  there  is  any  man  incontinent  simply  and 
absolutely  (without  any  specification  of  wherein),  or  whether 
all  incontinent  men  are  so  in  regard  to  this  or  that  particular 
matter?  (No.  6).  The  answer  is,  that  it  applies  directly  to 
the  bodily  appetites  and  pleasures,  which  are  necessary  up  to 
a  certain  point  (the  sphere  of  Temperance),  and  then  he  that 
commits  unreasonable  excess  above  this  point  is  called  Incon- 
tinent simply.  But  if  he  commits  excess  in  regard  to  plea- 
sures, which,  though  not  necessary,  are  natural  and,  up  to  a 
certain  point,  reasonable — such  as  victory,  wealth,  honour — • 
we  designate  him  as  incontinent,  yet  with  a  specification  of 
the  particular  matter  (IV.). 

The  modes  of  Bestiality,  as  cannibalism  and  unnatural 
passion,  are  ascribed  to  morbid  depravity  of  nature  or  of 
habits,  analogous  to  disease  or  madness  (V.). 

Incontinence  in  anger  is  not  so  bad  as  Incontinence  in 
lust,  because  anger  (1)  has  more  semblance  of  reason,  (2)  is 
more  a  matter  of  constitution,  (3)  has  less  of  deliberate  pur- 
pose— wliile  lust  is  crafty,  (4)  arises  under  pain,  and  not  from 
wantonness  (VI.). 

Persons  below  the  average  in  resisting  iileasures  are  in- 
continent; those  below  the  average  in  resisting  pains  are  soft 
or  effeminate.  The  mass  of  men  mcline  to  both  weaknesses. 
He  that  deliberately  pursues  excessive  pleasures,  or  other 
pleasures  in  an  excessive  way,  is  said  to  be  abandoned.  The  in- 
temperate are  -worse  than  the  incontinent.  Sport,  in  its  exces.^, 
is  effeminacy,  as  being  relaxation  from  toil.  There  are  two  kinds 
of  incontinence  :  the  one  proceeding  from  precipitancy,  where 
a  man  acts  without  deliberating  at  all ;  the  other  from  feeble- 
ness,— where  he  deliberates,  but  where  the  result  of  deliberation 
is  too  weak  to  countervail  his  appetite  (VII.).    Intemperance  or 


88  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLE. 

profligacy  is  more  vicious,  and  less  curable  than  Incontinence. 
The  profligate  man  is  one  who  has  in  him  no  principle  {(ipx'l) 
of  good  or  of  right  reason,  and  who  does  wrong  without  after- 
wards repenting  of  it ;  the  incontinent  man  has  the  good 
principle  in  him,  but  it  is  overcome  when  he  does  wrong,  and 
he  afterwards  repents  (VIII.).  Here,  again,  Aristotle  denies 
that  sticking  to  one's  opinions  is,  per  se,  continence.  The 
opinion  may  be  wrong ;  in  that  case,  if  a  man  sticks  to  it, 
prompted  by  mere  self-assertion  and  love  of  victory,  it  is  a 
species  of  incontinence.  One  of  the  virtues  of  the  continent 
man  is  to  be  open  to  persuasion,  and  to  desert  one's  resolu- 
tions for  a  noble  end  (IX.).  Incontinence  is  like  sleep  or 
drunkenness  as  opposed  to  wakefal  knowledge.  The  incon- 
tinent man  is  like  a  state  having  good  laws,  but  not  acting  on 
them.  The  incontinence  of  passion  is  more  curable  than  that 
of  weakness ;  what  proceeds  from  habit  more  than  what  is 
natural  (X.). 

The  Eighth  and  Ninth  Books  contain  the  treatise  on 
Friendship. 

The  subject  deserves  a  place  in  an  Ethical  treatise,  because 
of  its  connexion  with  virtue  and  with  happiness.  Several 
questions  have  been  debated  concerning  Friendship, — Is 
it  based  on  likeness  or  unlikeness  ?  Can  bad  men  be 
friends  ?  Is  there  but  one  species  of  Friendship,  or  more 
than  one  ?  (I.)  Some  progress  towards  a  solution  of  these 
questions  may  be  made  by  considering  what  are  the  objects  of 
liking ;  these  are  the  good,  the  pleasant,  the  useful.  By  the 
good  is  not  meant  the  absolute  good  of  Plato,  but  the  ap- 
parent good.  Inanimate  things  must  be  excluded,  as  wanting 
reciprocation  (II.).  The  varieties  of  friendship  follow  these 
three  modes  of  the  likeable.  The  friendships  for  the  useful 
and  the  pleasant,  are  not  disinterested,  but  self-seeking ;  they 
are  therefore  accidental  and  transitory  ;  they  do  not  involve 
intimate  and  frequent  association.  Friendship  for  the  good, 
and  between  the  virtuous,  is  alone  perfect ;  it  is  formed  slowly, 
and  has  the  requisites  of  permanence.  It  occurs  rarely  (III.). 
As  regards  the  useful  and  the  pleasant,  the  bad  may  be  friends. 
It  may  happen  that  two  persons  are  mutually  pleasant  to  each 
other,  as  lover  and  beloved ;  while  this  lasts,  there  is  friend- 
Bhip.  It  is  only  as  respects  the  good,  that  there  exists  a  per- 
manent liking  for  the  person.  Such  friendship  is  of  an  abso- 
lute nature;  the  others  are  accidental  (IV.).  Friendship  isia 
fall  exercise  only  during  actual  intercourse  ;  it  may  exist 
potentially  at  a  distance  ;  but  in  long  absence,  there  is  danger 


CONDITIONS   OF   FPvIENDSHIP.  89 

of  its  being  dissolved.  Friendship  is  a  settled  state  or  habit, 
while  fondness  is  a  mere  passion,  wnich  does  not  imply  oar 
wishin'jr  to  do  ^ood  to  the  object  of  it,  as  friendsliip  does  (V.). 
The  perfect  kind  of  friendship,  from  its  intensity,  cannot  be 
exercised  towards  more  than  a  small  numbei'.  In  regard  to 
the  asetul  and  the  pleasant,  on  the  other  hand,  there  may  be 
friendship  with  many ;  as  the  friendship  towards  tradesmea 
and  between  the  yoang.  The  happy  desire  pleasant  friends. 
Men  in  power  have  two  classes  of  friends ;  one  for  the  useliil, 
the  othdr  for  the  pleasant.  Both  qualities  are  found  in  thee 
good  man ;  bat  he  will  not  be  the  friend  of  a  superior,  unlessa 
he  be  surpassed  (by  that  superior)  in  virtue  also.  In  all  thet 
kinds  of  friendship  now  specified  there  is  equality  (VI.)-  Theria 
are  friendships  where  one  party  is  superior,  as  father  and  son-s 
older  and  younger,  husband  and  wife,  governor  and  governed. , 
In  such  cases  there  should  be  a  proportionably  greater  lovei 
on  the  part  of  the  inferior.  When  the  love  on  each  side  is- 
proportioned  to  the  merit  of  the  party  beloved,  then  we  have 
a  certain  species  of  equality,  which  is  an  ingredient  in  friend- 
ship. But  equality  in  matters  of  friendship,  is  not  quite  the 
same  as  equality  in  matters  of  justice.  In  matters  of 
justice,  equality  proportioned  to  merit  stands  first — equality 
between  man  and  man  (no  account  being  taken  of  comparative 
merit)  stands  only  second.  In  friendship,  the  case  is  the  re- 
verse ;  the  perflection  of  friendship  is  equal  love  between  the 
friends  towards  each  other  ;  to  have  greater  love'  on  one  side, 
by  reason  of  and  proportioned  to  superior  merit,  is  friendship 
only  of  the  second  grade.  This  will  be  evident  if  we  reflect 
that  extreme  inequality  renders  friendship  impossible — as  be- 
tween private  men  and  kings  or  gods.  Hence  the  friend  can 
scarcely  wish  for  his  friend  the  maximum  of  good,  to  become 
a  god ;  such  extreme  elevation  would  terminate  the  friend- 
ship. Nor  will  he  wish  his  friend  to  possess  all  the  good ; 
for  every  one  wishes  most  for  good  to  self  (VII.).  The  essence 
of  friendship  is  to  love  rather  than  to  be  loved,  as  seen  in 
mothers ;  but  the  generality  of  persons  desire  rather  to  be 
loved,  which  is  akin  to  being  honoured  (although  honour  is 
partly  sought  as  a  sign  of  future  favours).  By  means  of  love, 
as  already  said,  unequal  friendships  may  be  equalized.  Friend- 
ship with  the  good,  is  based  on  equality  and  similarity,  neither 
party  ever  desiring  base  services.  Friendships  for  the  useful 
are  based  on  the  contrariety  of  fulness  and  defect,  as  poor  and 
rich,  ignorant  and  knowing  (VIII.).  Friendship  is  an  inci- 
dent of  political  society ;  men  associating  together  for  common 


90  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS —ARISTOTLE. 

ends,  "become  friends.     Political  jnstice  becomes  more  binding 
when  men  are  related  bj  friendship.     The  state  itself  is  a  com- 
munity for  the  sake  of  advantage  ;  the  expedient  to  all  is  the 
just.    In  the  large  society  of  the  state,  there  are  many  inferior 
societies  for  buisiiiess,  and  for  pleasure  :  friendship  starts  up 
in    all   (IX.).     There  are   three   forms   of  Civil  Government, 
with    a   characteristic    declension    or    perversion    of  each : — 
Mon  irchy    passing    into    Despotism;    Aristocracy    into     OH- 
'  garcLiy  ;  Tiaioci'acy  (based  on  wealth)  into  democracy  ;  parent 
1  and  child   typifies   the   first ;   husband   and  wife  the  second ; 
brothers   the   third  (X.).     The  monarch ial  or   paternal  type 
^aas   superiority  on   one  side,  and   demands  honour  as  well  as 
-^Sve  on  the  other.     In  aristocracy,  the  relation  is  one  of  merit, 
.\nd  the  greater  love  is  given  to  the  better.     In  timocracy,  and 
^among  brothers,  there  is  equality  ;  and  hence  the  most  fre- 
quent friendships.     There  is  no  friendship  towards  a  slave,  as 
^a  slave,  for,  as  such  he  is  a  mere  animate  tool  (XI.).     In  the 
■^  relations  of  the  family,  friendship   varies  with  the  diiferenfc 
situations.     Parents  love  their  children  as  a  part  of  themselves, 
and  from  the  first;  children  grow  to  love  their  parents.  Brothers 
are  affected  by  their  community  of  origin,  as  well  as  by  common 
education  and  habits  of  intimacy.     Husband  and  wife  come 
together  by  a  natural  bond,  and  as  mutual  helps  ;  their  friend- 
ship contains  the  useful  and  the  pleasant,  and,  with  virtue,  the 
good.     Their  offspring  strengthens   the   bond    (XII.).     The 
friendships  that  give  rise  to  complaints  are  confined  to  the 
Useful.     Such  friendships  involve  a  legal  element  of  strict  and 
measured  reciprocity  [mere  trade],  and  a  moral  or  unwritten 
understanding,  which  is  properly  friendship.     Each  party  is 
apt  to  give  less  and  expect  more  than  he  gets  ;  and  the  rule 
must  be  for  each  to  reciprocate  liberally  and  fully,  in  such 
manner  and  kind  as  they  are  able  (XIII.).     In  unequal  friend- 
ships, between  a  superior  and  inferior,  the  inferior  has  the 
greater  share  of  material  assistance,  the  superior  should  re- 
ceive the  greater  honour  (XIY.). 

Book  Ninth  proceeds  without  any  real  break.  It  may  not 
be  always  easy  to  fix  the  return  to  be  made  for  services  re- 
ceived. Protagoras,  the  sophist,  left  it  to  his  pupils  to  settle  the 
amount  of  fee  that  he  should  receive.  When  there  is  no  agree- 
m.ent,  we  must  render  what  is  in  our  power,  for  example,  to  the 
gods  and  to  our  parents  (I.).  Cases  may  arise  of  conflicting 
obligation ;  as,  shall  W3  prefer  a  friend  to  a  deserving  man  ? 
shall  a  person  robbed  reciprocate  to  robbers  ?  and  others.  [We 
have  here  the  germs  of  Casuistry.]  (II.)      As  to  the  termina- 


VARIETIES   OF   FRIENDSHIP.  91 

tion  of  Friendship  ;  in  the  oase  of  the  useful  and  the  pleasant, 
the  connexion  ceases  with  the  motives.  In  the  case  of  the  good, 
it  may  happen  that  one  party  counterfeits  tlie  good,  but  is  really 
acting  the  useful  or  the  pleasant;  or  one  party  may  turn  out 
wicked,  and  the  only  question  is,  how  far  hopes  of  his  improve- 
ment shall  be  entertained.  Again,  one  may  continue  the  same, 
while  the  other  makes  larg^e  advances  in  mental  training^: 
how  far  shall  present  disparity  operate  against  old  associalions  ? 
(III.).  There  is  a  sort  of  illustrative  parallelism  between  the 
feelings  and  acts  of  friendship,  and  the  feelings  and  acts  of 
self-love,  or  of  a  good  man  to  himself.  The  virtuous  man 
wishes  what  is  good  for  himself,  especially  for  his  highest  part 
— the  intellect  or  thinking  part ;  he  desires  to  pass  his  life  in 
the  company  of  his  own  thoughts  ;  he  sympathizes  with  his 
own  sorrows.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bad  choose  the  pleasant, 
although  it  be  hurtful;  they  fly  from  themselves;  their  own 
thoughts  are  unpleasant  companions  ;  they  are  full  of  repent- 
ance (IV.).  Good-will  is  different  from  friendship ;  it  is  a 
sudden  impulse  of  feeling  towards  some  distinguished  or  like- 
able quality,  as  in  an  antagonist.  It  has  not  the  test  of  longing 
in  absence.  It  may  be  the  prelude  to  friendship  (Y.). 
Unanimity,  or  agreement  of  opinion,  is  a  part  of  fiieudship. 
Not  as  regards  mere  speculation,  as  about  the  heavenly  bodies; 
but  in  practical  matters,  where  interests  are  at  stake,  sach  as 
the  politics  of  the  day.  This  unanimity  cannot  occur  in  the 
bad,  from  their  selfish  and  grasping  disposition  (VI.). 

The  position  is  next  examined — that  the  love  felt  by 
benefactors  is  stronger  than  the  love  felt  by  those  bene- 
fitted. It  is  not  a  sufficient  explanation  to  say,  the  bene- 
factor is  a  creditor,  who  wishes  the  prosperity  of  his  debtor. 
Benefactors  are  like  workmen,  who  love  their  own  work, 
and  the  exercise  of  their  own  powers.  They  also  have  the 
feeling  of  nobleness  on  their  side ;  while  the  recipient  has 
the  less  lovable  idea  of  profit.  Finally,  activity  is  more 
akin  to  love  than  recipiency  (VII.).  Another  question  raised 
for  discussion  is — '  Ought  a  man  to  love  himself  most, 
or  another  ? '  On  the  one  hand,  selfishness  is  usually  con- 
demned as  the  feature  of  bad  men ;  on  the  other  hand,  the 
feelings  towards  self  are  made  the  standard  of  the  feelings 
towards  friends.  The  solution  is  given  thus.  There  is  a 
lower  self  (predominant  with  most  men)  that  gratifies  the 
appetites,  seeking  wealth,  power,  &c.  With  the  select  few, 
there  is  a  higher  self  that  seeks  the  honourable,  the  noble,  in- 
tellectual excellence,  at  any  cost  of  pleasure,  wealth,  honour, 


92  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— ARISTOTLE. 

&c.  These  noble-minded  men  procure  for  themselves  the 
greater  good  by  sacrificing  the  less :  and  their  self-sacrifice  is 
thus  a  mode  of  self.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  good  man  to  love 
himself:  for  his  noble  life  is  profitable,  both  to  himself,  and 
to  others ;  but  the  bad  man  ought  not  to  love  himself. 
[Self-sacrifice,  formerly  brought  under  Courage,  is  here 
depicted  from  another  point  of  view]  (YIII.). 

By  way  of  bringing  out  the  advantages  of  friendship,  it  is 
next  asked.  Does  the  happy  man  need  friends  ?  To  this,  it  is 
answered,  (1)  That  happiness,  being  the  sum  of  all  human  good, 
must  suppose  the  possession  of  the  greatest  of  external  goods, 
which  is  friendship.  (2)  The  happy  man  will  require  friends 
as  recipients  of  liis  overflow  of  kindness.  (3)  He  cannot  be 
expected  either  to  be  solitary,  or  to  live  with  strangers.  (4) 
The  highest  play  of  existence  is  to  see  the  acts  of  another  in 
harmony  with  self.  (5)  Sympathy  supports  and  prolongs  the 
glow  of  one's  own  emotions.  (G)  A  friend  confirms  us  in  the 
practice  of  virtue.  (7)  The  sense  of  existence  in  ourselves  is 
enlarged  by  the  consciousness  of  another's  existence  (IX.). 
The  number  of  friends  is  again  considered,  and  the  same 
barriers  stated — the  impossibility  of  sharing  among  many  the 
highest  kind  of  affection,  or  of  keeping  up  close  and  har- 
monious intimacy.  The  most  renowned  friendships  are  be- 
tween pairs  (X.).  As  to  whether  friends  are  most  needed  in 
adversity  or  in  prosperity — in  the  one,  friendship  is  more  ne- 
cessary, in  the  other  more  glorious  (XI.).  The  essential 
support  and  manifestation  of  friendship  is  Intercourse.  What- 
ever people's  tastes  are,  they  desire  the  society  of  others  in 
exercising  them  (XII.). 

Book  Tenth  discusses  Pleasure,  and  lays  down  as  the 
highest  and  perfect  pleasure,  the  exercise  of  the  Intellect  in 
Philosophy. 

Pleasure  is  deserving  of  consideration,  from  its  close  inti- 
macy with  the  constitution  of  our  race  ;  on  which  account,  in 
our  training  of  youth,  we  steer  them  by  pleasure  and  pain ; 
and  it  is  of  the  first  importance  that  they  should  feel  pleasure 
in  what  they  ought,  and  displeasure  in  what  they  ought,  as 
the  groundwork  (or  princijnum)  of  good  ethical  dispositions. 
Such  a  topic  can  never  be  left  unnoticed,  especially  when  we 
look  at  the  great  difference  of  opinion  thereupon.  Some 
affirm  pleasure  to  be  the  chief  good  [Eudoxus].  Others  call  it 
altogether  vile  and  worthless  [party  of  SpeusippusJ.  Of  these 
last,  some  perhaps  really  think  so ;  but  the  rest  are  actuated 
by  the  necessity  of  checking  men's  too  great  proneness  to  it> 


THEORIES   OF  PLEASURE.  93 

and  disparage  it  on  that  account.  This  policy  Aristotle 
strongly  censures,  and  contends  for  the  superior  efficacy  of 
truth  ([.). 

The  arguments  urged  by  Eudoxus  as  proving  pleasure 
to  be  the  chief  good,  are,  (1)  That  all  beings  seek  pleasure; 
(2)  and  avoid  its  opposite,  pain;  (3)  that  they  seek  pleasure 
as  an  end-in-itself,  and  not  as  a  means  to  any  farther  end. ; 
(1)  that  pleasure,  added  to  any  other  good,  such  as  jus- 
tice or  temperance,  increases  the  amount  of  good  ;  which 
could  not  be  the  case,  unless  pleasure  were  itself  good.  Yet 
this  last  argument  (Aristotle  urges)  proves  pleasure  to  be  a 
good,  but  not  to  be  the  Good ;  indeed,  Plato  urged  the  same 
argument,  to  show  that  pleasure  could  not  be  The  Good  :  since 
The  Good  (the  Chief  Good)  must  be  something  that  does  not 
admit  of  being  enhanced  or  made  more  good.  The  objection  of 
Speusippus, — that  irrational  creatures  are  not  to  be  admitted 
as  witnesses, — Aristotle  disallows,  seeing  that  rational  and 
irrational  agree  on  the  point ;  and  the  thing  that  seems  to  all, 
must  be  true.  Another  objection.  That  the  opposite  of  pain 
is  not  pleasure,  but  a  neutral  state — is  set  aside  as  contradicted 
by  the  fact  of  human  desire  and  aversion,  the  two  opposite 
states  of  feeling  (II.). 

The  arguments  of  the  Platonists,  to  prove  that  pleasure 
is  not  good,  are  next  examined.  (1)  Pleasure,  they  say,  is 
not  a  quality ;  but  neither  (replies  Aristotle)  are  the  exercises 
or  actual  manifestations  of  virtue  or  happiness.  (2)  Plea- 
sure is  not  definite,  but  unlimited,  or  admitting  of  degrees, 
while  The  Good  is  a  something  definite,  and  does  not  admit 
of  degrees.  But  if  these  reasoners  speak  about  the  pure  plea- 
sures, they  might  take  objection  on  similar  grounds  against 
virtue  and  justice  also ;  for  these  too  admit  of  degrees,  and 
one  man  is  more  virtuous  than  another.  And  if  they  speak 
of  the  mixed  pleasures  (alloyed  with  pain),  their  reasoning 
will  not  apply  to  the  unmixed.  Good  health  is  acknowledged 
to  be  a  good,  and  to  be  a  definite  something ;  yet  then;  are 
nevertheless  some  men  more  healthy,  some  less.  (3)  The 
Good  is  perfect  or  complete  ;  but  objectors  urge  that  no  motion 
or  generation  is  complete,  and  pleasure  is  in  one  of  these  two 
categories.  This  last  assertion  Aristotle  denies.  Pleasure  is 
not  a  motion ;  for  the  attribute  of  velocity,  greater  or  less, 
which  is  essential  to  all  motion,  does  not  attach  to  pleasure 
A  man  may  be  quick  in  becoming  pleased,  or  in  becoming 
angry  ;  but  in  the  act  of  being  pleased  or  angry,  he  can  neither 
be  quick  nor  slow.     Nor  is  it  true  that  pleasure  is  a  genera- 


94  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 

fcion.  In  all  generation,  there  is  something  assignable  out  of 
which  generation  takes  place  (not  any  one  thing  ont  of  any- 
other),  and  into  which  it  reverts  by  destruction.  If  pleasure 
be  a  generation,  pain  must  be  the  destruction  of  what  is 
generated  ;  but  this  is  not  correct,  for  pain  does  not  re-establish 
the  state  antecedent  to  the  pleasure.  Accordingly,  it  is  not 
true  that  pleasure  is  a  generation.  Some  talk  of  pain  as  a 
want  of  something  required  by  nature,  and  of  pleasure  as  a 
filling  up  of  that  want.  But  these  are  corporeal,  not  mental 
facts,  and  are  applicable  only  to  eating  and  drinking;  not 
applicable  to  many  other  pleasures,  such,  as  those  of  sight, 
hearing,  or  learning.  (4)  There  are  some  disgraceful  plea- 
sures. Aristotle  replies  that  these  are  not  absolutely  and  pro- 
perly pleasures,  but  only  to  the  depraved  man ;  just  as  things 
are  not  yellow,  which  appear  so  to  men  in  a  jaundice.  Pleasures 
differ  from  each  other  in  species :  there  are  good  pleasures, 
i.e.,  those  arising  from  good  sources ;  and  bad  pleasures, 
i.e.,  from  bad  sources.  The  pleasure  j:)er  se  is  always  desir- 
able ;  but  not  when  it  comes  from  objectionable  acts.  The 
pleasures  of  each  man  will  vary  according  to  his  character ; 
none  but  a  musical  man  can  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  music. 
No  one  would  consent  to  remain  a  child  for  life,  even  though 
he  were  to  have  his  fill  of  childish  pleasure. 

Aristotle  sums  up  the  result  thus.  Pleasure  is  not  The 
Good.  Not  every  mode  of  pleasure  is  to  be  chosen.  Some 
pleasures,  distinguished  from  the  rest  specifically  or  according 
to  their  sources,  are  to  be  chosen  per  se  (HI.)- 

He  then  attempts  to  define  pleasure.  It  is  something  per- 
fect and  complete  in  itself,  at  each  successive  moment  of  time  ; 
hence  it  is  not  motion,  which  is  at  every  moment  incomplete. 
Pleasure  is  like  the  act  of  vision,  or  a  point,  or  a  monad, 
always  complete  in  itself.  It  accompanies  every  variety  of 
sensible  perception,  intelligence,  and  theorizing  contemplation. 
In  each  of  these  faculties,  the  act  is  more  perfect,  according 
as  the  subjective  element  is  most  perfect,  and  the  object  most 
grand  and  dignified.  When  the  act  is  most  perfect,  the  plea- 
sure accompanying  it  is  also  the  most  perfect ;  and  this  plea- 
snre  puts  the  finishing  consummation  to  the  act.  The  pleasure 
is  not  a  pre-existing  acquirement  now  brought  into  exercise, 
but  an  accessory  end  implicated  with  the  act,  like  the  fresh 
look  which  belongs  to  the  organism  just  matured.  It  is  a  sure 
adjunct,  so  long  as  subject  and  object  are  in  good  condition. 
But  continuity  of  pleasure,  as  well  as  of  the  other  exercises, 
is  impossible.     Life  is  itself  an  exercise  much  diversified,  and 


PLEASURES  OF  THE  INTELLECT  THE  REAL  PLEASURES.     95 

each  man  follows  the  diversity  that  is  suitable  to  his  own 
inclination — music,  study,  &c  Ej,cb  has  its  accessory  and 
consummating  mode  of  pleasure ;  and  to  say  that  all  men 
desire  pleasure,  is  the  same  as  saying  that  all  men  desire  life. 
It  is  no  real  question  to  ask— Do  we  choose  life  for  the  sake 
of  pleasure,  or  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  life  ?  The  truth  is, 
that  the  two  are  implicated  and  inseparable  (IV.). 

As  our  acts  or  exercises  differ  from  each  other  specifically, 
so  also  the  pleasures  that  are  accessory  to  them  differ  speci- 
fically. Exercises  intellectual  differ  from  exercises  perceptive, 
and  under  each  head  there  are  varieties  differing  from  each 
other.  The  pleasures  accessory  and  consummating  to  each, 
are  diversified  accordingly.  Each  pleasure  contributes  to 
invigorate  and  intensify  the  particular  exercise  that  it  is  at- 
tached to  ;  the  geometer  who  studies  his  science  with  pleasure 
becomes  more  acute  and  successful  in  prosecuting  it.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  pleasures  attached  to  one  exercise  impede  the 
mind  in  regard  to  other  exercises  ;  thus  men  fond  of  the  flute 
cannot  listen  to  a  speaker  with  attention,  if  any  one  is  playing 
the  flute  near  them.  What  we  delight  in  doing,  we  are  more 
likely  to  do  well ;  what  we  feel  pain  in  doing,  we  are  not 
likely  to  do  well.  And  thus  each  variety  of  exercise  is  alike 
impeded  by  the  pains  attached  to  itself,  and  by  the  pleasures 
attached  to  other  varieties. 

Among  these  exercises  or  acts,  some  are  morally  good, 
others  morally  bad ;  the  desires  of  the  good  are  also  praise- 
worthy, the  desires  of  the  bad  are  blameable  ;  but  if  so,  much 
more  are  the  pleasures  attached  to  the  good  exercises,  good 
pleasures — and  the  pleasures  attached  to  the  bad  exercises, 
bad  pleasures.  For  the  pleasures  attached  to  an  exercise  are 
more  intimately  identified  with  that  exercise  than  the  desire 
of  it  can  be.  The  pleasure  of  the  exercise,  and  the  exercise 
itself,  are  indeed  so  closely  identified  one  with  the  other,  that  to 
many  they  appear  the  same.  Sight,  hearing,  and  smell,  differ 
in  purity  from  touch  and  taste  ;  and  the  pleasures  attached  to 
each  differ  in  like  manner.  The  pleasures  of  intellect  difiTer 
from  those  of  sense,  as  these  two  exercises  differ  from  one 
another.  Every  animal  has  its  own  peculiar  pleasures,  as  it 
has  also  its  own  peculiar  manifestation  and  exercises.  Among 
the  human  race,  the  same  things  give  pleasure  to  one  indi- 
vidual and  pain  to  another.  The  things  that  appear  sweet 
to  the  strong  and  healthy  man,  do  not  appear  sweet  to  one 
suffering  from  fever,  or  weakly.  Now.  amidst  this  discrep- 
ancy, what  appears  to  the  virtuous  and  intelligent  man,  really 


96  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLE. 

is.  His  pleasures  are  the  true  and  real  pleasures.  Excellence, 
and  the  good  man  qudtenus  good,  are  to  be  taken  as  the 
standard.  If  what  he  abhors  appears  pleasurable  to  some 
persons,  we  must  not  be  sur^orised,  since  there  are  many  de- 
pravations of  individuals,  in  one  way  or  another ;  but  these 
things  are  not  pleasures  really,  they  are  only  pleasures  to 
these  depraved  mortals  (V.). 

So  far  the  theory  of  Pleasure.  Aristotle  now  goes  back 
to  his  starting  point — the  nature  of  the  Good,  and  Happiness. 
He  re-states  his  positions :  That  Happiness  is  an  exercise  or 
actuality  (eVp/>7e/«),  and  not  an  acquirement  or  state  (e'^>) , 
Tliat  it  belongs  to  such  exercises  as  are  worthy  of  choice 
for  their  own  sake,  and  not  to  such  as  are  worthy  of  choice 
for  the  sake  of  something  else  ;  That  it  is  perfect  and  self- 
sufficing,  seeking  nothing  beyond  itself,  and  leaving  no 
wants  unsupplied.  Hence  he  had  concluded  that  it  consisted 
in  acting  according  to  virtue  ;  for  the  honourable  and  good 
are  chosen  for  their  own  sake.  But  amusements  are  also 
sought  for  their  own  sake ;  Are  these  also  to  be  called  happi- 
ness ?  Ko.  It  is  true  that  they  are  much  pursued  by 
those  whom  the  vulgar  envy — men  of  wealth  and  despots — 
who  patronize  and  reward  the  practitioners  of  amusement. 
But  this  proves  nothing,  for  we  cannot  adopt  the  choice  of 
these  despots,  who  have  little  virtue  or  intellect,  and  have 
never  known  the  taste  of  refined  and  liberal  pleasure.  Child- 
ren and  mature  men,  bad  men  and  virtuous,  have  each  their 
different  pleasures  ;  the  virtuous  and  intelligent  man  finds  a  lii'a 
of  excellence  and  the  pleasures  attached  thereunto  most  worthy 
of  his  choice,  and  such  a  man  (Aristotle  has  declared  more 
than  once)  is  our  standard.  It  would  indeed  be  childish  to 
treat  amusements  as  the  main  end  of  life ;  they  are  the  relax- 
ation of  the  virtuous  man,  who  derives  from  them  fresh  vigour 
for  the  prosecution  of  the  serious  business  of  life,  which  he 
cannot  prosecute  continuously.  The  serious  exercises  of  life 
are  better  than  the  comic,  because  they  proceed  from  the 
better  part  of  man.  The  slave  may  enjoy  bodily  pleasures  to 
the  full,  but  a  slave  is  not  called  happy  (VI  ). 

We  have  thus  shown  that  Happiness  consists  in  exercise 
or  actual  living  according  to  excellence;  naturall}'^,  therefore, 
according  to  the  highest  excellence,  or  the  excellence  of  the 
best  part  of  man.  This  best  part  is  the  Intellect  (Nor<f),  our 
most  divine  and  commanding  element;  in  its  exercise,  which 
is  theoretical  or  speculative,  having  respect  to  matters  honour- 
able, divine,  and  most  worthy  of  study.     Such  philosophical 


THE   LIFE    OF   PHILOSOPHY.  97 

exercise,  besides  being  the  highest  function  of  our  nature,  is 
at  the  same  time  more  susceptible  than  any  mode  of  active 
effort,  of  being  prosecuted  for  a  long  continuance.  It  affords 
the  purest  and  most  lasting  pleasure  ;  it  approaches  most  nearly 
to  being  self-sufficing,  since  it  postulates  little  more  than  the 
necessaries  of  life,  and  is  even  independent  of  society,  though 
better  with  society.  Perfect  happiness  would  thus  be  the 
exercise  of  the  theorizing  intellect,  continued  through  a  full 
period  of  life.  But  this  is  more  than  we  can  expect.  Still, 
we  ought  to  make  every  effort  to  live  according  to  this  best 
element  of  our  nature;  for,  though  smrJl  in  bulk,  it  stands 
exalted  above  the  rest  in  power  aud  dignity,  and,  being  the 
sovereign  element  in  man,  is  really  The  Man  himself  (VIL). 

Next,  yet  only  second,  come  the  other  branches  of  excel- 
lence :  the  active  social  life  of  a  good  citizen.  Exercises  accord- 
ing to  this  branch  of  virtue  are  the  natural  business  of  man,  for 
it  is  bound  up  with  our  whole  nature,  including  body  as  well  as 
mind,  our  appetites,  and  our  passions,  whereas  the  happiness 
of  intellect  is  separate.  Active  social  virtue  postulates  con- 
ditions of  society  and  external  aids  in  considerable  measure  ; 
but  the  life  of  intellect  requires  only  the  minimum  of  these, 
and  is  even  impeded  by  much  of  them. 

That  perfect  happiness  is  to  be  found  in  the  philosophical 
life  only,  will  appear  farther  when  we  recollect  that  the  gods 
are  blest  and  happy  in  the  highest  degree,  and  that  this  is 
the  only  mode  of  life  suitable  to  them.  With  the  gods  there 
can  be  no  scope  for  active  social  virtues ;  for  in  what  way  can 
they  be  just,  courageous,  or  temperate  ?  Neither  virtuous 
practice  nor  constructive  art  can  be  predicated  of  the  gods ; 
what  then  remains,  since  we  all  assume  them  to  live,  and 
therefore  to  be  in  act  or  exercise  of  some  kind;  for  no  one 
believes  them  to  live  in  a  state  of  sleep,  like  Endymion, 
There  remains  nothing  except  philosophical  contemplation. 
This,  then,  must  be  the  life  of  the  gods,  the  most  blest  of  all; 
and  that  mode  of  human  life  which  approaches  nearest  to  it 
will  be  the  happiest.  No  other  animal  can  take  part  in  this, 
and  therefore  none  can  be  happy.  In  so  far  as  the  gods  pay 
attention  to  human  affairs,  they  are  likely  to  take  pleasure 
in  the  philosopher,  who  is  most  allied  to  themselves.  A 
moderate  supply  of  good  health,  food,  and  social  position, 
must  undoubtedly  be  ensured  to  tlie  philosopher  ;  for,  without 
these,  human  nature  will  not  suffice  for  the  business  of  con- 
templation. But  he  will  demand  nothing  more  than  a  moderate 
supply,  and  when  thus  equipped,  he  will  approach  nearer  to 
5 


98  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— ARISTOTLE. 

happiness  than  any  one  else.  Aristotle  declares  this  confi- 
dently, citing  Solon,  Anaxagoras,  and  other  sages,  as  having 
said  much  the  same  before  him  (VIII.). 

In  the  concluding  chapter,  Aristotle  gives  the  transition 
from  Ethics  to  Politics.  Treatises  on  virtue  may  inspire  a  few 
liberal  minds  ;  but,  for  the  mass  of  men,  laws,  institutions, 
and  education  are  necessary.  The  young  ought  to  be  trained, 
not  merely  by  paternal  guidance  directing  in  the  earliest 
years  their  love  and  hatred,  but  also  by  a  scheme  of  public, 
education,  prescribed  and  enforced  by  authority  throughout 
the  city.  Right  cond  ivifc  will  thus  be  rendered  easier  by 
habit ;  but  still,  throughout  life,  the  mature  citizen  must  con- 
tinue under  the  discipline  of  law,  v/hich  has  force  adequate  to 
correction,  and,  being  imperson  il,  does  not  excite  aversion  and 
hatred.  Hence  the  need  for  a  system  of  good  public  training. 
Nowhere  is  this  now  established  and  enforced  ;  hardly  any- 
where, except  in  Sparta,  is  it  even  attempted.  Amid  such 
public  neglect,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  an  individual  to  con- 
tribute what  he  can  to  the  improvement  of  those  that  he  is 
concerned  in,  and  for  that  purpose  to  acquire  the  capacities 
qualifying  him  for  becoming  a  lawgiver.  Private  admonition 
will  compensate  to  a  certain  extent  for  the  neglect  of  public 
interference,  and  in  particular  cases  may  be  even  more  dis- 
criminating. But  how  are  such  capacities  to  be  acquired  ? 
Not  from  the  Sophists,  whose  method  is  too  empirical ;  nor 
from  practical  politicians,  for  they  seem  to  have  no  power  of 
imparting  their  skill.  Perhaps  it  would  be  useful  to  make  a 
collection  of  existing  laws  and  constitutions.  Aristotle  con- 
cludes with  sketching  the  plan  of  his  own  work  on  Politics. 

The  Aristotelian  doctrines  are  generally  summed  up  in 
such  points  as  these  : — The  theory  of  Good  ;  Pleasure ;  the 
theory  of  Virtue ;  the  doctrine  of  the  Will,  distinguishing 
voluntary  from  involuntary;  Virtue  a  Habit;  the  doctrine 
of  the  Mean  ;  the  distinction  between  the  Moral  Virtues  and 
the  Intellectual  Virtues  ;  Justice,  distributive  and  commuta- 
tive ;   Friendship  ;  the  Contemplative  Lite. 

The  following  are  the  indicatioas  of  his  views,  according 
to  the  six  leading  subjects  of  Ethics. 

■  I.  and  II. — It  is  characteristic  of  Aristotle  (as  is  fully 
stated  in  Appendix  B.)  to  make  the  judgment  of  the  wisest 
and  most  cultivated  minds,  the  standard  of  appeal  in  moral 
questions.  He  lays  dovvn  certain  general  principles,  such  as 
the  doctrine  of  the   Mean,  but  in  the  application  of  these 


THE    STOICAL    SUCCESSION.  99 

(whicli  is  everything),  he  trusts  to  the  most  experienced  and 
skilled  advisers  that  the  comrannity  can  furnish. 

HI. — On  the  theory  of  Happiness,  or  the  Summum  Bonura, 
it  is  needless  to  repeat  the  abstract  of  the  tenth  book. 

IV. — In  laying  down  the  Moral  Code,  he  Avas  encumbered 
with  the  too  wide  view  of  Virtue  ;  but  made  an  advance  in 
distinguishing  virtue  proper  from  excellence  in  general. 

V. — He  made  Society  tutelary  to  the  individual  in  an 
excessive  degree.  He  had  no  clear  conception  of  the  province 
of  authority  or  law ;  and  did  not  separate  the  morality  of 
oLlifration  from  the  morality  of  reward  and  nobleness. 

VI. — His  exclusion  of  Theology  from  morality  was  total. 

THE  STOICS. 

The  Stoics  were  one  of  the  four  sects  of  philosophy,  recog- 
nized and  conspicuous  at  Athens  during  the  three  centuries 
preceding  the  Christian  era,  and  during  the  century  or  more 
following.  Among  these  four  sects,  the  most  marked  anti- 
thesis of  ethical  dogma  was  between  the  Stoics  and  the  Epi- 
cureans. The  Stoical  system  dates  from  about  300  B.C. ;  it 
was  derived  from  the  system  of  the  Cynics. 

The  founder  of  the  system  was  Zeno,  from  Citium  in 
Cyprus  (he  lived  from  340 — 260  B.C.),  who  derived  his  first 
impulse  from  Krates  the  Cynic.  He  opened  his  school  in  a 
building  or  porch,  called  the  Sfoa  Poecile  ('Painted  Portico') 
at  Athens,  whence  the  origin  of  the  name  of  the  sect.  Zeno 
had  for  his  disciple  Cleanthes,  from  Assos  in  the  Troad  (300 
■ — 220  B.C.),  whose  Hymn  to  Jiqnter  is  the  only  fragment  oi 
any  length  that  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  early  Stoics, 
and  is  a  remarkable  production,  setting  forth  the  unity  of  God, 
his  omnipotence,  and  his  moral  government.  Chrysippus, 
jfrom  Soli  in  Cilicia  (290—207  B.c  ),  follow^ed  Cleanthes,  and, 
jn  his  voluminous  writings,  both  defended  and  modified  the 
Stoical  creed.  These  three  represent  the  first  period  of  the 
system.  The  second  period  (200 — 50  B.C.)  embraces  its 
general  promulgation,  and  its  introduction  to  the  Romans. 
Chrysippus  was  succeeded  by  Zeno  of  Sidon,  and  Diogenes 
of  Babjdon ;  then  follow^ed  Antipater  of  Tarsus,  who  taught 
Pan^tius  of  Rhodes  (d.  112  B.C.),  who,  again,  taught  Posidonius 
of  Apamea,  in  Syria.  (Two  philosophers  are  mentioned 
from  the  native  province  of  St.  Paul,  besides  Chrysippus 
— Athenodorus,  from  Cana  in  Cilicia ;  and  Archedemus, 
from  Tarsus,  the  apostle's  birthplace.  It  is  remarked  by  Sir 
A.  Grant,  that  almost  all  the  first  Stoics  were  of  Asiatic  birth; 


100  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS- -THE   STOICS. 

and  tlie  system  itself  is  undeniably  more  akin  to  the  oriental 
mind  than  to  the  Greek.)  Posidonius  was  acquainted  with 
Marius  and  Pompey,  and  gave  lessees  to  Cicero,  but  the  moral 
treatise  of  Cicero,  De  OJficiis,  is  derived  from  a  work  of  Paneetius. 
The  third  period  of  Stoicism  is  Roman.  In  this  period,  we  have 
Cato  the  Younger,  who  invited  to  his  house  the  philosopher 
Athenodorus ;  and,  under  the  Empire,  the  three  Stoic  philo- 
sophers, whose  writings  have  come  down  to  us — Seneca  (6  B.C. 
— 65  A.D.),  Epictetus  (60 — 140  a.d.),  who  began  life  as  a 
«^]ave,  and  the  Emperor  Makcus  Aurllius  Antoninus  (121 — 
380  A.D.).  Stoicism  prevailed  widely  in  the  Roman  world, 
although  not  to  the  exclusion  of  Epicurean  views. 

The  leading  Stoical  doctrines  are  given  in  certain  phrases 
or  expressions,  as  '  Life  according  to  Nature  '  (altiiough  this 
phrase  belongs  also  to  the  Epicureans),  the  ideal  '  Wise  Man,' 
*  Apathy,'  or  equanimity  of  mind  (also  an  Epicurean  ideal), 
th»i  power  of  the  'Will,'  the  worship  of  '  Duty,'  the  constant 
'  Advance '  in  virtue,  &c.  But  perspicuity  will  be  best  gained 
by  considering  the  Moral  system  under  four  heads — the  Theo- 
logy; the  Psychology  or  theory  of  mind;  the  theory  of  the 
Good  or  human  happiness  ;  and  the  scheme  of  Virtue  or  Duty. 

] . — The  Theological  doctrines  of  the  Stoics  comprehended 
their  system  of  the  Universe,  and  of  man's  position  in  it.  They 
held  that  the  Universe  is  governed  by  one  good  and  wise  God, 
together  with  inferior  or  subordinate  deities.  God  exercises 
a  mo^al  government ;  under  it  the  good  are  happy,  while  mis- 
fortupes  happen  to  the  wicked.  According  to  Epictetus,  God 
is  the  rather  of  men  ;  Antoninus  exults  in  the  beautiful  arrange- 
ment of  all  things.  The  earlier  Stoics,  Zeno  and  Chrysippus, 
entertained  high  reverence  for  the  divination,  prophecy,  and 
omens  that  were  generally  current  in  the  ancient  world. 
They  considered  that  these  were  the  methods  whereby  the 
gods  were  graciously  pleased  to  make  known  beforehand 
revelations  of  their  foreordained  purposes  (Herein  lay  one 
among  the  marked  points  of  contrast  between  Stoics  and 
Epicureans.)  They  held  this  foreordination  even  to  the  length 
of  fatalism,  and  made  the  same  replies,  as  have  been  given  in 
modern  times,  to  the  difficulty  of  reconciling  it  with  the  exis- 
tence of  evil,  and  with  the  apparent  condition  of  the  better  and 
the  worse  individuals  among  mankind.  They  offered  explana- 
tions such  as  the  following  :  (1)  God  is  the  author  of  all  things 
except  wickedness;  (2)  the  very  nature  of  good  supposes  its  con- 
trast evil,  and  the  two  are  insepai-able,  like  light  and  dark, 
(which  may  be  called  the  argument  from  Relativity) ;  (3)  in  the 


STOICA.L  THEOLOGY.  101 

enormons  extent  of  the  Universe,  some  things  mnst  be 
neglected  ;  (4)  when  evil  happens  to  the  ^ood,  it  is  not  as  a 
punishment,  but  as  connected  with  a  different  dispensation; 

(5)  parts  of  the  world  may  be  presided  over  by  evil  demons ; 

(6)  what  we  call  evil  may  not  be  evil. 

Like  most  other  ancient  schools,  the  Stoics  held  God  to  be 
corporeal  like  man  : — Body  is  the  only  substance ;  nothing 
incorporeal  could  act  on  what  is  corporeal ;  the  First  Cause 
of  all,  God  or  Zeus,  is  the  piimeval  fire,  emanating  from  which 
is  the  soul  of  man  in  the  form  of  a  warm  ether. 

It  is  for  human  beings  to  recognize  the  Universe  as  go- 
verned by  universal  Law,  and  not  only  to  raise  their  minds 
to  the  comprehension  of  it,  but  to  enter  into  the  views  of  the 
administering  Zeus  or  Fate,  who  must  regard  all  interests 
equally  ;  we  are  to  be,  as  it  were,  in  harmony  with  him,  to 
merge  self  in  universal  Order,  to  think  only  of  that  and  its 
welfare.  As  two  is  greater  than  one,  the  interests  of  the 
whole  world  are  infinitely  greater  than  the  interests  of  any 
single  being,  and  no  one  should  be  satisfied  with  a  regai^d  to 
anything  less  than  the  whole.  By  this  elevation  of  view,  we 
are  necessarily  raised  far  above  the  consideration  of  the  petty 
events  befalling  ourselves.  The  grand  effort  of  human  reason 
is  thus  to  rise  to  the  abstraction  or  totality  of  entire  Nature ; 
*  no  ethical  subject,'  says  Chrysippus,  'could  be  rightly  ap- 
proached except  from  the  pre-consideration  of  entire  Nature, 
and  the  ordering  of  the  whole.' 

As  to  Immortality,  the  Stoics  precluded  themselves,  by  hold- 
ing the  theory  of  the  absorption  of  the  individual  soul  at  death 
into  the  divine  essence  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  their  doctrine 
of  advance  and  aspiration  is  what  has  in  all  times  been  the  main 
natural  argument  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  For  the 
most  part,  they  kept  themselves  undecided  as  to  this  doctrine, 
giving  it  as  an  alternative,  reasoning  as  to  our  conduct  on 
either  supposition,  and  submitting  to  the  pleasure  of  God  in 
this  as  in  all  other  things. 

In  arguing  for  the  existence  of  Divine  power  and  govern- 
ment, they  employed  what  has  been  called  the  argument  from 
Design,  which  is  as  old  as  Sokrates.  ]\Ian  is  conscious  that 
he  is  in  himself  an  intellectnal  or  spiritual  power,  from  which, 
by  analog}^,  he  is  led  to  believe  that  a  greater  power  pervades 
the  universe,  as  intellect  pervades  the  human  system. 

II. — In  the  Psychology  of  the  Stoics,  two  questions  are  of 
interest,  their  theory  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  and  their  views 
"apon  the  Freedom  of  the  Will. 


102  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS — THE    STOICS. 

1.  The  fheorij  of  Fleasiire  and  Pam.  The  Stoics  agreed 
witli  the  Peripatetics  (anterior  to  Epicurus,  not  specially 
against  hhn)  tbat  the  first  principle  of  nature  is  (not  pleasure 
or  relief  from  pain,  but)  self-preservation  or  self-love;  in  other 
words,  the  natural  appetite  or  tendency  of  all  creatures  is,  to 
preserve  their  existing  condition  with  its  inherent  capacities, 
and  to  keep  clear  of  destruction  or  disablement.  This  appetite 
(they  said)  manifests  itself  in  little  children  before  any  plea- 
sure or  pain  is  felt,  and  is  moreover  a  fundamental  postu- 
late, pre-supposed  in  all  desires  of  particular  pleasures,  as  well 
as  in  all  aversions  to  particular  pains.  We  begin  by  loving 
our  own  vitality;  and  we  come,  by  association,  to  love 
what  promotes  or  strengthens  our  vitality  ;  we  hate  destruction 
or  disablement,  and  come  (by  secondary  association)  to  hate 
whatever  produces  that  effect.* 

The  doctrine  here  laid  down  associated,  and  brought  under 
one  view,  what  was  common  to  man,  not  merely  with  the 
animal,  but  also  with  the  vegetable  world ;  a  plant  was  de- 
clared to  have  an  impulse  or  tendency  to  maintain  itself, 
even  without  feeling  pain  or  pleasure.  Aristotle  (in  the  tenth 
Book  of  the  Ethics)  says,  that  he  will  not  determine  whether 
we  love  life  for  the  sake  of  pleasure,  or  pleasure  for  tho 
sake  of  life ;  for  he  affirms  the  two  to  be  essentially  yoked 
together  and  inseparable ;  pleasure  is  the  consummation  of 
our  vital  manifestations.  The  Peripatetics,  after  him,  put 
pleasure  down  to  a  lower  level,  as  derivative  and  accidental ; 
the  Stoics  went  farther  in  the  same  direction — possibly  from, 
antithesis  against  the  growing  school  of  Epicurus. 

The  primary  officium  (in  a  larger  sense  than  our  word 
Duty)  of  man  is  (they  said)  to  keep  himself  in  the  state  of 
nature ;  the  second  or  derivative  officium  is  to  keep  to  such 
things  as  are  according  to  nature,  and  to  avert  those  that  are 
contrary  to  nature;  our  gradually  increasing  experience  enabled 
us  to  discriminate  the  two.  The  youth  learns,  as  he  grows 
up,  to  value  bodily  accomplishments,  mental  cognitions  and 
judgments,  good  conduct  towards  those  around  him, — as  power- 
ful aids  towards  keeping  up  the  state  of  nature.  When  his 
experience  is  so  far  enlarged  as  to  make  him  aware  of  the 
order  and  harmony  of  nature  and  human  society,  and  to 
impress  upon  him  the  comprehension  of  this  great  ideal,  his 
emotions  as  well  as  his  reason  become  absorbed  by  it.     He 


*  There  is  some  anilogy  bptwef  n  the  ahove  d(  ctrine  and  the  great  law 
of  Self-conservation,  as  expouiidud  iu  this  volume  (p  75). 


STOICAL  PSYCHOLOGY.  103 

recognizes  this  as  the  only  true  Bonum  or  Honestnm,  to  which 
all  other  desirable  things  are  referable, — as  the  only  thing 
desirable  for  itself  and  in  its  own  nature.  He  drops  or  dis- 
misses all  those  prima  natures  that  he  had  begun  by  desiring. 
He  no  longer  considers  any  of  them  as  worthy  of  being  desired 
in  itself,  or  for  its  own  sake. 

While  therefore  (according  to  Peripatetics  as  well  as 
Stoics)  the  love  of  self  and  of  preserving  one's  own  vitality 
and  activity,  is  the  primary  element,  intuitive  and  connate, 
to  which  all  rational  preference  (officinm)  was  at  first  referred, 
— they  thought  it  not  the  less  true,  that  in  process  of  time,  by 
experience,  association,  and  reflection,  there  grows  up  in  the 
mind  a  grand  acquired  sentiment  or  notion,  a  new  and  later 
light,  which  extinguishes  and  puts  out  of  sight  the  early 
beginning.  It  was  important  to  distinguish  the  feeble  and 
obscure  elements  from  the  powerful  and  brilliant  aftergrowth  ; 
which  indeed  was  fully  realized  only  in  chosen  minds,  and  in 
them,  hardly  before  old  age.  This  idea,  when  once  formed  in 
the  mind,  was  The  Good — the  only  thing  worthy  of  desire  for 
its  own  sake.  The  Stoics  called  it  the  only  Good,  being  suffi- 
cient in  itself  for  happiness  ;  other  things  being  not  good,  nor 
necessary  to  happiness,  but  simply  preferable  or  advantageous 
when  they  could  be  had :  the  Peripatetics  recognized  it  as  the 
first  and  greatest  good,  but  said  also  that  it  was  not  sufficient 
in  itself;  there  were  two  other  inferior  varieties  of  good,  of 
which  something  must  be  had  as  complementary  (what  the 
Stoics  called  pruBposita  or  sumenda).  Thus  the  Stoics  said, 
about  the  origin  of  the  Idea  of  Bonum  or  Honestum,  much 
the  same  as  what  Aristotle  says  about  ethical  virtue.  It  is  not 
implanted  in  us  by  nature  ;  but  we  have  at  birth  certain  initial 
tendencies  and  capacities,  which,  if  aided  by  association  and 
training,  enable  us  (and  that  not  in  all  cases)  to  acquire  it. 

2.  The  Freedom  of  the  Will.  A  distinction  was  taken  by 
Epictetus  and  other  Stoics  between  things  in  our  power  and 
things  not  in  our  power.  The  things  in  our  power  are  our 
opinions  and  notions  about  objects,  and  all  our  affections,  de- 
sires, and  aversions  ;  the  things  not  in  our  power  are  our 
bodies,  wealth,  honour,  rank,  authorit}^  &c.,  and  their  oppo- 
sites.  The  practical  application  is  this  :  wealth  and  high  rank 
may  not  be  in  our  power,  but  we  have  the  power  to  form  an 
idea  of  these — namely,  that  they  are  unimportant,  whence 
the  want  of  them  will  not  grieve  us.  A  still  more  pointed 
application  is  to  death,  whose  force  is  entirely  in  the  idea. 

With  this  distinction  between  things  in  our  power  and 


104  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — THE   STOICS. 

things  not  in  our  power,  we  may  connect  the  arguments 
between  the  Stoics  and  their  opponents  as  to  what  is 
now  called  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  But  we  must  first 
begin  by  distinguishing  the  two  questions.  By  things  in 
our  j>ower,  the  Stoics  meant,  things  that  we  could  do  or 
acquire,  if  we  willed :  by  things  not  in  our  power,  they 
meant,  things  that  we  could  not  do  or  acquire  if  we 
willed.  In  both  cases,  the  volition  was  assumed  as  a  fact : 
the  question,  what  determined  it — or  whether  it  was  non- 
determined,  i.e.  self-determining — was  not  raised  in  the  above- 
mentioned  antithesis.  But  it  was  raised  in  other  discussions 
between  the  Stoic  theorist  Chrysippus,  and  various  opponents. 
These  opponents  denied  that  volition  was  determined  by 
motives,  and  cited  the  cases  of  equal  conflicting  motives 
(what  is  known  as  the  ass  of  Buridan)  as  proving  that  the 
soul  includes  in  itself,  and  exerts,  a  special  supervenient 
power  of  deciding  action  in  one  way  or  the  other ;  a  power 
not  determined  by  any  causal  antecedent,  but  self- originating, 
and  belonging  to  the  class  of  agency  that  Aristotle  recog- 
nizes under  the  denomination  of  automatic,  spontaneous  (or 
essentially  irregular  and  unpredictable).  Chrysippus  replied 
by  denying  not  only  the  reality  of  this  supervenient  force  said 
to  be  inherent  in  the  soul,  but  also  the  reality  of  all  that 
Aristotle  called  automatic  or  spontaneous  agency  generally. 
Chrysippus  said  that  every  movement  was  determined  by 
antecedent  motives  ;  that  in  cases  of  equal  conflict,  the 
exact  equality  did  not  long  continue,  because  some  new  but 
slight  motive  slipped  in  unperceived  and  turned  the  scale  on 
one  side  or  the  other.  (See  Plutarch  De  Stoicorum  Repug- 
nantiis,  c.  23,  p.  1045.)  Here,  we  see,  the  question  now 
known  as  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  is  discussed :  and 
Chrysippus  declares  against  it,  affirming  that  volition  is 
always  determined  by  motives. 

But  we  also  see  that,  while  declaring  this  opinion, 
Chrysippus  does  not  employ  the  terms  Necessity  or  Freedom 
of  the  Will :  neither  did  his  opponents,  so  far  as  we  can  see : 
they  had  a  different  and  less  misleading  phrase.  By  Freedom, 
Chrysippus  and  the  Stoics  meant  the  freedom  of  doing  what 
a  man  willed,  if  he  willed  it.  A  man  is  free,  as  to  the 
thing  that  is  in  his  power,  when  he  wills  it;  he  is  not 
free,  as  to  what  is  not  in  his  power,  under  the  same  sup- 
position. The  Stoics  laid  great  stress  on  this  distinction. 
They  pointed  out  how  much  it  is  really  in  a  man's  power 
to   transform   or   discipline  his  own   mind:    in  the  way  of 


FREEDOM  OF  THE  WILL.  105 

controlling  or  suppressing  some  emotions,  generating  or  en- 
couraging others,  forming  new  intellectual  associations,  &c., 
how  much  a  man  could  do  in  these  ways,  if  he  willed  it,  and 
if  he  went  throui^-h  the  lessons,  habits  of  conduct,  meditations, 
suitable  to  produce  such  an  effect.  The  Stoics  strove  to 
create  in  a  man's  mind  the  volitions  appropriate  for  such 
mental  discipline,  by  depicting  the  beneticial  conseque.ices 
resulting  from  it,  and  the  misfortune  and  shame  inevitable,  if 
the  mind  were  not  so  disciplined.  Their  purpose  was  to 
strengthen  the  governing  reason  of  his  mind,  and  to  enthrone 
it  as  a  fixed  habit  and  character,  which  would  control  by 
counter  suggestions  the  impulse  arising  at  each  special  moment 
—  particularly  all  disturbing  terrors  or  allurements.  This,  in. 
their  view,  is  a  free  mind ;  not  one  wherein  volition  is 
independent  of  all  motive,  but  one  wherein  the  susceptibility 
to  different  motives  is  tempered  by  an  ascendant  reason,  so 
as  to  g'ive  predominance  to  the  better  motive  against  the 
worse.  One  of  the  strongest  motives  that  they  endeavoured 
to  enforce,  was  the  prudence  and  dignity  of  bringing  our 
volitions  into  harmony  with  the  schemes  of  Providence : 
which  (they  said)  were  always  arranged  with  a  view  to  the 
happiness  of  the  kosmos  on  the  whole.  The  bad  man,  whose 
volitions  conflict  with  these  schemes,  is  always  baulked  of 
his  expectations,  and  brought  at  last  against  his  will  to  see 
things  carried  by  an  overruling  force,  with  aggravated  pain 
and  hum.iliation  to  hiiuself:  while  the  good  man,  who  re- 
signs himself  to  them  from  the  first,  always  escapes  with 
less  pain,  and  often  without  any  at  all.  Ducunt  volentem 
fata,  nolentem  trahunt. 

We  have  thus  seen  that  in  regard  to  the  doctrine  called  in 
modern  times  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  (i.e.,  that  volitions  are 
self- originating  and  unpredictable),  the  Stoic  theorists  not  only 
denied  it,  but  framed  all  their  Ethics  upon  the  assumption  of 
the  contrary.  This  same  assumption  of  the  contrary,  indeed, 
was  made  also  by  Sokrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  Epicurus :  in 
short,  by  all  the  ethical  teachers  of  antiquity.  All  of  them 
believed  that  volitions  depended  on  causes :  that  under  the 
ordinary  conditions  of  men's  minds,  the  causes  that  voli- 
tions generally  depended  upon  are  often  misleading  and  some- 
times ruinous  :  but  that  by  proper  stimulation  from  without 
and  meditation  within,  the  rational  causes  of  volition  might 
be  made  to  overrule  the  impulsive.  Plato,  Aristotle,  Epicurus, 
not  less  than  the  Stoics,  wished  to  create  new  fixed  habits 
and  a  new  type  of  character.     They   differed,  indeed, -on  the 


106  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— THE   SIOICS. 

question  what  the  proper  type  of  character  was  :  but  each  of 

them  aimed  at  the  same  general  end — a  new  type  of  character, 
regulating  the  grades  of  susceptibility  to  different  motives. 
And  the  purpose  of  all  and  each  of  these  moralists  precludes 
the  theory  of  free-will — i.e.,  the  theory  that  our  volitions  are 
self- originating  and  unpredictable. 

III. — We  must  consider  next  the  Stoical  theory  of  Happi- 
ness, or  rather  of  the  Good,  which  with  them  was  proclaimed 
to  be  the  sole,  indispensable,  and  self-sufficing  condition  of 
H'ppiness.  They  declared  that  Pleasure  was  no  part  of  Good, 
and  Pain  no  part  of  Evil ;  therefore,  that  even  relief  from  pain 
was  not  necessary  to  Good  or  Happiness.  This,  however,  if 
followed  out  consistently,  would  dispense  with  all  morality  and 
all  human  endeavour.  Accordingly,  the  Stoics  were  obliged 
to  let  in  some  pleasures  as  an  object  of  pursuit,  and  some 
pains  as  an  object  of  avoidance,  though  not  under  the  title  of 
Good  and  Evil,  but  with  the  inferior  name  of  Sumenda  and 
Eejicieiida.*  Substantially,  therefore,  they  held  that  pains 
are  an  evil,  but,  by  a  proper  discipline,  may  be  triumphed 
over.  They  disallowed  the  direct  and  ostensible  pursuit  of 
pleasure  as  an  end  (the  point  of  view  of  Epicurus),  but  allured 
their  followers  partly  by  promising  them  the  victory  over  pain, 
and  partly  by  certain  enjoyments  of  an  elevated  cast  that  grew 
out  of  their  plan  of  life. 

Pain  of  every  kind,  whether  from  the  casualties  of  exis- 
tence, or  from  the  severity  of  the  Stoical  virtues,  was  to  be 
met  by  a  discipline  of  endurance,  a  hardening  process,  which, 
if  persisted  in,  would  succeed  in  reducing  the  mind  to  a  state 
of  Apathy  or  indifference.  A  great  many  reflections  were 
suggested  in  aid  of  this  education.  The  influence  of  exercise 
and  repetition  in  adapting  the  system  to  any  new  function, 
was  illustrated  by  the  Olympian  combatants,  and  by  the  Lace- 
daemonian youth,  who  endured  scourging  without  complaint. 
Great  stress  was  laid  on  the  instability  of  pleasure,  and  the 
constant  liability  to  accidents ;  whence  we  should  always  be 
anticipating  and  adapting  ourselves  to  the  worst  that  could 
happen,  so  as  never  to  be  in  a  state  where  anything  could 
ruffle  the  mind.     It  was  pointed  out  how  much  might  still  be 

•  Aristotle  and  th  ;  Peripatetics  held  that  there  were  tria  genera  bon- 
orum  :  (1)  Those  oi  the  mind  fniens  sanaj,  (2)  those  of  the  body,  and  (3) 
external  advanta^^es.  The  Stoics  altered  this  theory  by  saying  that  only 
the  first  of  the  three  was  bonum  ;  the  others  were  merely  prceposita  or 
sumenda.  The  opponents  of  the  Stoics  contended  that  this  was  an  altera- 
tion in  words  rather  than  in  substance. 


THE   STOICAL  DISCIPLINE.  107 

made  of  the  worst  circumstances — poverty,  banish  men t.  public 
odium,  sickness,  old  age — and  every  consideration  was  ad- 
vanced tliat  could  'arm  the  obdurate  breast  with  stubborn 
patience,  as  with  triple  steel.'  It  has  often  been  remarked 
that  such  a  discipline  of  endurance  was  peculiarly  suited  to 
the  unsettled  condition  of  the  world  at  the  time,  when  any 
man,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  evils  of  life,  might  in  a 
moment  be  sent  into  exile,  or  sold  into  slavery. 

Next  to  the  discipline  of  endurance,  we  mast  rank  the 
complacent  sentiment  of  Pride,  which  the  Stoic  might  justly 
feel  in  his  conquest  of  himself,  and  in  his  lofty  independence 
and  superiority  to  the  casualties  of  iife.^  The  pride  of  the 
Cynic,  the  Stoic's  predecessor,  was  prominent  and  offensive, 
showing  itself  in  scuriility  and  contempt  towards  everybody 
else ;  the  Stoical  pride  was  a  refinement  upon  this,  but  was 
still  a  grateful  sentiment  of  superiority,  which  helped  to  make 
up  for  the  surrender  of  indulgences.  It  was  usual  to  bestow 
the  most  extravagant  laudation  on  the  '  Wise  Man,'  and  every 
Stoic  could  take  this  home  to  the  extent  that  he  considered 
himself  as  approaching  that  great  ideal. 

The  last  and  most  elevated  form  of  Stoical  happiness  was 
the  satisfaction  of  contemplating  the  Universe  and  Grod. 
Epictetus  says,  that  we  can  accommodate  ourselves  cheerfully 
to  the  providence  that  rules  the  world,  if  we  possess  two 
things — the  power  of  seeing  all  that  happens  in  the  proper 
relation  to  its  own  purpose  —  and  a  grateful  disposition. 
The  work  of  Antoninus  is  full  of  studies  of  Nature  in  the 
devout  spirit  of  '  passing  from  Nature  up  to  Nature's  God ;' 
he  is  never  weary  of  expressing  his  thorough  contentment 
with  the  course  of  natural  events,  and  his  sense  of  the  beauties 
and  fitness  of  everything.  Old  age  has  its  grace,  and  death 
is  the  becoming  termination.  This  high  strain  of  exulting 
contemplation  reconciled  him  to  that  complete  submission  to 
whatever  might  befall,  which  was  the  essential  feature  of  the 
*  Life  according  to  Nature,'  as  he  conceived  it. 

lY. — The  Stoical  theory  of  Virtue  is  implicated  in  the 
ideas  of  the  Good,  now  described. 

The  fountain  of  all  virtue  is  manifestly  the  life  according 
to  nature ;  as  being  the  life  of  subordination  of  self  to  more 
general  interests — to   family,   country,    mankind,    the  whole 

•  This  also  might  truly  be  said  of  the  Epicureans  ;  though  with  them 
it  is  not  so  much  pn'de,  as  a  quiet  self-satisfaction  in  escaping  pains  and 
disappointments  that  they  saw  others  enduring.  See  the  beginning  of 
Lucretius'  t>econd  book,  and  the  last  epistle  of  Epicurus  to  Idomeneua. 


108  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — THE   STOICS. 

universe.  If  a  man  is  prepared  to  consider  himself  absolutely 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  universal  interest,  and  to 
regard  it  as  the  sole  end  of  life,  he  has  embraced  an  ideal  of 
virtue  of  the  loftiest  order.  Accordingly,  the  Stoics  were  the 
first  to  preach  what  is  called  '  Cosmopolitanism  ;'  for  although, 
in  their  reference  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  they  confounded 
together  sentient  life  and  inanimate  objects — rocks,  plants, 
&c.,  solicitude  for  which  was  misspent  labour — yet  they  were 
thus  enabled  to  reach  the  conception  of  the  universal  kind- 
ship  of  mankind,  and  could  not  but  include  in  their  regards 
the  brute  creation.  They  said:  'There  is  no  difference  between 
the  Greeks  and  Barbarians  ;  the  world  is  our  city.'  Seneca 
urges  kindness  to  slaves,  for  '  are  they  not  men  like  ourselves, 
breathing  the  same  air,  living  and  dying  like  ourselves  ?' 

The  Epicureans  declined,  as  much  as  possible,  interference 
in  public  affairs,  but  the  Stoic  philosophers  urged  men  to  the 
duties  of  active  citizenship.  Chrysippus  even  said  that  the 
life  of  philosophical  contemplation  (such  as  Aristotle  preferred, 
and  accounted  godlike)  was  to  be  placed  on  the  same  level 
with  the  life  of  pleasure ;  though  Plutarch  observes  that 
neither  Chrysippus  nor  Zeno  ever  meddled  personally  with 
any  public  duty ;  both  of  them  passed  their  lives  in  lec- 
turing and  writing.  The  truth  is  that  both  of  them  were 
foreigners  residing  at  Athens ;  and  at  a  time  when  Athens 
was  dependent  on  forrij_,n  princes.  Accordingly,  neither  Zeno 
nor  Chrysippus  had  any  sphere  of  political  action  open  to 
them  ;  they  were,  in  this  respect,  like  Epictetus  afterwards — 
but  in  a  position  quite  different  from  Seneca,  the  preceptor  of 
Nero,  who  might  hope  to  influence  the  great  imperial  power 
of  Rome,  and  from  Marcus  Antoninus,  who  held  that  impe- 
rial powder  in  his  own  hands. 

Marcus  Antoninus — not  only  a  powerful  Emperor,  but 
also  the  most  gentle  and  amiable  man  of  his  day — talks  of 
active  beneficence  both  as  a  duty  and  a  satisfaction.  But  in 
the  creed  of  the  Stoics  generally,  active  Beneficence  did  not 
occupy  a  prominent  place.  They  adopted  the  four  Cardinal 
Virtues — Wisdom,  or  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil  ; 
Justice  ;  Fortitude  ;  Temperance — as  part  of  their  jilan  of  the 
virtuous  life,  the  life  according  to  Nature.  Justice,  as  the  social 
virtue,  was  placed  above  all  the  rest.  But  the  Stoics  were 
not  strenuous  in  requiring  more  than  Justice,  for  the  benefit 
of  others  beside  the  agent.  They  even  reckoned  compassion 
for  the  sufferings  of  others  as  a  weakness,  analogous  to  euvy 
for  the  good  fortune  of  others. 


STOICAL   VIEW   OF  BENEFICENCE.  109 

The  Stoic  recognized  the  gods  (or  Universal  Nature, 
equivalent  expressions  in  his  creed)  as  managing  the  afiairs 
of  the  world,  with  a  view  to  producing  as  much  happiness 
as  was  attainable  on  the  whole.  Towards  this  end  the  gods 
did  not  vvaijt  any  positive  assistance  from  him ;  but  it 
was  his  duty  and  his  strongest  interest,  to  resign  himself 
to  their  plans,  and  to  abstain  from  all  conduct  tending 
to  frustrate  them.  Such  refractory  tendencies  were  per- 
petually suggested  to  him  by  the  unreasonable  appetites, 
emotions,  fears,  antipathies,  &c.,  of  daily  life  j  all  claiming 
satisfaction  at  the  expense  of  future  mischief  to  himself  and 
others.  To  countervail  these  misleading  forces,  by  means  of 
a  fixed  rational  character  built  up  through  meditation  and 
philosophical  teaching,  was  the  grand  purpose  of  the  Stoic 
ethical  creed.  The  emotional  or  ar)petitive  self  was  to  be 
starved  or  cui'bed,  and  retained  only  as  an  appendage  to  the 
rational  self ;  an  idea  proclaimed  before  in  general  terms  by 
Plato,  but  carried  out  into  a  sj^stem  by  the  Stoics,  and  to  a 
great  extent  even  by  the  Epicureans. 

The  Stoic  was  taught  to  reflect  how  much  that  appears 
to  be  desirable,  terror-striking,  provocative,  &c.,  is  not  really 
so,  but  is  made  to  appear  so  by  false  and  curable  asso- 
ciations. And  whde  he  thus  discouraged  those  self-regard- 
ing emotions  that  placed  him  in  hostility  with  others,  he 
learnt  to  respect  the  self  of  another  man  as  well  as  his 
own.  Epictetus  advises  to  deal  mildly  with  a  man  that 
hurts  us  either  by  word  or  deed;  and  advises  it  upon 
the  following  very  remarkable  ground.  '  Recollect  that 
in  what  he  says  or  does,  he  follows  his  own  sense  of  pro- 
priety, not  yours.  He  must  do  what  appears  to  him  right, 
not  w^hat  appears  to  you  ;  if  he  judges  wrongly,  it  is  he  that 
is  hurt,  for  he  is  the  person  deceived.  Always  repeat  to  your- 
self, in  such  a  case :  The  man  has  acted  on  his  own  opinion.' 

The  reason  here  given  by  Epictetus  is  an  instance,  memor- 
able in  ethical  theory,  of  respect  for  individual  dissenting  con- 
viction, even  in  an  extreme  case ;  and  it  must  be  taken  in 
conjunction  with  his  other  doctrme,  that  damage  thus  done 
to  us  unjustly  is  really  little  or  no  damage,  except  so  far  as  we 
ourselves  give  pungency  to  it  by  our  irrational  susceptibilities 
and  associations.  We  see  that  the  Stoic  submerges,  as  much 
as  he  can,  the  pre-eminence  of  his  own  individual  self,  and 
contemplates  himself  from  the  point  of  view  of  another,  only 
as  one  among  many.  But  he  does  not  erect  the  happiness  of 
others  into  a  direct  object  of  his  own  positive  pursuit,  beyond 


no  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — THE   STOICS. 

the  reciprocities  of  family,  citizenship,  and  common  humanity. 
The  Stoic  theorists  agreed  with  Epicurus  in  inculcating  the 
reciprocities  of  justice  between  all  fellow -citizens ;  and  they 
even  went  farther  than  he  did,  by  extending  the  sphere  of 
such  duties  beyond  the  limits  of  city,  so  as  to  comprenend  all 
mankind.  But  as  to  the  reciprociiies  of  individual  friendship, 
Epicurus  went  beyond  the  Stoics,  by  the  amount  of  self-sacrifice 
and  devotion  that  he  enjoined  for  the  benefit  of  a  friend. 

There  is  also  in  the  Stoical  system  a  recognition  of  duties 
to  God,  and  of  morality  as  based  on  piety.  Not  only  are  we 
all  brethren,  but  also  the  '  children  of  one  Father.' 

The  extraordinary  strain  put  upon  human  nature  by  the 
full  Stoic  ideal  of  submerging  self  in  the  larger  interests  of 
being,  led  to  various  compromises.  The  rigid  following  out 
of  the  ideal  issued  in  one  of  the  paradoxes,  namely, — That  all 
the  actions  of  the  wise  man  are  equally  perfect,  and  that,  short 
of  the  standard  of  perfection,  all  faults  and  vices  are  equal ; 
that,  for  example,  the  man  that  killed  a  cock,  without  good 
reason,  was  as  guilty  as  he  that  killed  his  father.  This  has  a 
meaning  only  when  we  draw  a  line  between  spirituality  and 
morality,  and  treat  the  last  as  worthless  in  comparison  of  the 
first.  The  later  Stoics,  however,  in  their  exhortations  to 
special  branches  of  duty,  gave  a  positive  value  to  practical 
virtue,  irrespective  of  the  ideal. 

The  idea  of  Daty  was  of  Stoical  origin,  fostered  and  de- 
veloped by  the  Roman  spirit  and  legislation.  The  early  Stoics 
had  two  different  words, — one  for  the  'suitable'  {ku0?jkov),  or 
incomplete  propriety,  admitting  of  degrees,  and  below  the 
point  of  rectitude,  and  another  for  the  'right'  (KmofjOwjua),  or 
complete  rectitude  of  action,  which  none  could  achieve  except 
the  wise  man.      It   is   a    significant   circumstance    that   the 

*  suitable'  is  the  lineal  ancestor  of  our  word  '  duty'  (through 
the  Latin  ojjiciuia). 

It  was  a  great  point  with  the  Stoic  to  be  conscious  of 

*  advance  '    or  improvement.*     By  self-examination,  he  kept 

*  This  was  a  later  development  of  Stoicism  :  the  earlier  theorists  laid 
it  down  that  there  were  no  graduating  marks  below  the  level  of  wisdom  ; 
all  shortcomings  were  on  a  par.  Good  was  a  point,  Evil  was  a  point ; 
there  were  gradations  in  the  prceposita  or  smnenda  (none  of  which  were 
good),  and  in  the  rijecta  or  rcjicienda  (none  of  which  were  evil),  but  there 
was  no  more  or  less  good.  The  idea  of  advance  by  steps  towards  virtue 
or  wisdom,  was  probably  familiar  to  Sokrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
Epicurus ;  the  Stoic  theories,  on  the  other  hand,  tended  to  throw  it  out 
of  sight,  though  they  insisted  strenuously  on  the  necessity  of  mental 
training  and  meditation. 


SELF-CONTRADICTIONS   OF  STOICISM.  Ill 

himself  constantly  acquainted  with  his  moral  state,  and  it  was 
both  his  duty  and  his  satisfaction  to  be  approaching  to  the 
ideal  of  the  perfect  man. 

It  is  very  illustrative  of  the  unguarded  points  and  contra- 
dictions of  Stoicism,  that  contentment  and  apathy  were  not  to 
permit  grief  even  for  the  loss  of  friends.  Seneca,  on  one  occa- 
sion, admits  that  he  was  betrayed  by  human  weakness  on  this 
point.  On  strict  Stoical  principles,  we  ought  to  treat  the 
afflictions  and  the  death  of  otbers  with  the  same  frigid  indiffer- 
ence as  our  own ;  for  why  should  a  man  feel  for  a  second 
person  more  than  he  ouo^ht  to  feel  for  himself,  as  a  mere  unit 
in  the  infinitude  of  the  Universe  ?  This  is  the  contradiction 
inseparable  from  any  system  that  begins  by  abjuring  pleasure, 
and  relief  or  protection  from  pain,  as  the  ends  of  life.  Even 
granting  that  we  regard  pleasure  and  relief  from  pain  as 
of  no  importance  in  our  own  case,  yet  if  we  apply  the  same 
measure  to  others  we  are  bereft  of  all  motives  to  benevo- 
lence ;  and  virtue,  instead  of  being  set  on  a  loftier  pinnacle, 
is  left  without  any  foundation. 

EPICURUS.         [341-270  B.C.] 

Epicurus  was  bom  341  B.C.  in  the  island  of  Samos.  At 
the  age  of  eighteen,  he  repaired  to  Athens,  where  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  enjoyed  the  teaching  of  Xenocrates  or  Theo- 
phrastus.  In  306  B.C.,  he  opened  a  school  in  a  garden  in 
Athens,  whence  his  followers  have  sometimes  been  called  the 
*  philosophers  of  the  garden.'  His  life  was  simple,  chaste,  and 
temperate.  Of  the  300  works  he  is  said  to  have  written, 
nothing  has  come  down  to  us  except  three  letters,  giving  a 
summary  of  his  views  for  the  use  of  his  friends,  and  a  number 
of  detached  sayings,  preserved  by  Diogenes  Laertius  and 
others.  Moreover,  some  fragments  of  his  work  on  Nature  have 
been  found  at  Herculaneura.  The  additional  sources  of  our 
knowledge  of  Epicurus  are  the  works  of  his  opponents, 
Cicero,  Seneca,  Plutarch,  and  of  his  follower  Lucretius.  Our 
information  from  Epicurean  writers  respecting  the  doctrines 
of  their  sect  is  much  less  copious  than  what  we  possess 
from  Stoic  writers  in  regard  to  Stoic  opinions.  We  have  no 
Epicurean  writer  on  Philosophy  except  Lucretius ;  whereas 
respecting  the  Stoical  creed  under  the  Roman  Empire,  the  im- 
portant writings  of  Seneca,  Epictetus,  and  Marcus  Antoninus, 
affurd  most  valuable  evidence. 

To  Epicurus  succeeded,   in  the  leadership  of  his  school, 


112  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— EPICURUS. 

HermaclirfS,  Polystratus,  Dlonyslus,  P)asilides,  and  others,  ten 
in  nambef,  down  to  the  age  of  Augustus.  Among  Roman 
Epicureans,  Lucretius  (95 — 51  B.C.)  is  the  most  important, 
his  poem  (De  Rerum  Xatura),  being  the  completest  account 
of  the  system  that  exists.  Other  distinguished  followers  were 
Horace,  Atticus,  and  Lucian.  In  modern  times,  Pierre 
Gassendi  (1592 — 1655)  revived  the  doctrines  of  Epicurus, 
and  in  1647  published  his  '  Syntagma  Philosophise  Epicuri,' 
and  a  Life  of  Epicurus.  The  reputation  of  Gassendi,  in  his 
life  time,  rested  chiefly  upon  his  physical  theories  ;  but  his  in- 
fluence was  much  felt  as  a  Christian  upholder  oif  Epicureanism. 
Gassendi  was  at  one  time  in  orders  as  a  Roman  Catholic,  and 
professor  of  theology  and  philosophy.  He  established  an 
Epicurean  school  in  France,  among  the  disciples  of  which 
were,  Moliere,  Saint  Evremond,  Count  de  Grammont,  the 
Duke  of  Rochefoucalt,  Fontenelle,  and  Voltaire. 

The  standard  of  Virtue  and  Vice  is  referred  by  Epicums 
to  pleasure  and  pain.  Pain  is  the  only  evil.  Pleasure  is  the 
only  good.  Virtue  is  no  end  in  itself,  to  be  sought :  Vice  is 
no  end  in  itself,  to  be  avoided.  The  motive  for  cultivating 
Virtue  and  banishing  Vice  arises  from  the  consequences  of 
each,  as  the  means  of  multiplying  pleasures  and  averting  or 
lessening  pains.  But  to  the  attainment  of  this  purpose,  the 
complete  supremacy  of  Reason  is  indispensable  ;  in  order  that 
we  may  take  a  right  comparative  measure  of  the  varieties  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  and  pursue  the  course  that  promises  the 
least  amount  of  suffering.* 

In  all  ethical  theories  that  make  happiness  the  supreme 
object  of  pursuit,  the  position  of  virtue  depends  entirely  upon 
the  theory  of  what  constitutes  happiness.  Now,  Epicurus 
(herein  differing  from  the  Stoics,  as  well  as  Aristotle),  did 
not  recognize  Happiness  as  anything  but  freedom  from  pain 

*  This  theory  (taken  in  its  most  general  sense,  and  apart  from  differ- 
ences in  the  estimation  of  particular  pleasures  and  pains),  had  been  pro- 
claimed long  before  the  time  of  Epicurus.  It  is  one  of  the  various 
theories  of  Plato  :  for  in  his  dialogue  called  Protagoras  (though  in  other 
dialogues  he  reasons  differently)  we  find  it  explicitly  set  forth  and 
elaborately  vindicated  by  his  principal  spokesman,  Sokrates,  against  the 
Sophist  Protagoras.  It  was  also  held  by  Aristippus  (companion  of 
Sokrates  along  with  Plato)  and  by  his  followers  after  him,  called  the 
Cyrenaics.  Lasth',  it  was  maintained  by  Eudoxus,  one  of  the  most 
estimable  philosophers  contemporary  with  Aristotle.  Epicurus  was  thus 
in  no  way  the  originator  of  the  theory  :  but  he  had  his  own  way  of  con- 
ceiving it — his  own  body  of  doctrine  physical,  cosmological,  and  theo- 
logical, with  which  it  was  implicated — and  his  own  comparative  valuation 
ol  pleasures  and  pains. 


REGULATION    OF   THE   DESIRES.  113 

and  enjoj^menfc  of  pleasure.  It  is  essential,  however,  to 
understand,  how  Epicurus  conceived  pleasure  and  pain,  and 
what  is  the  Epicurean  scale  of  pleasures  and  pains,  graduated 
as  objects  of  reasonable  desire  or  aversion  ?  It  is  a  great 
error  to  suppose  that,  in  making  pleasure  the  standard  of 
virtue,  Epicurus  had  in  view  that  elaborate  and  studied  grati- 
fication of  the  sensual  appetites  that  we  associate  with  the 
word  Epicurean.  Epicurus  declares — '  When  we  say  that 
pleasure  is  the  end  of  life,  we  do  not  mean  the  pleasures  of 
the  debauchee  or  the  sensualist,  as  some  from  'gnorance  or 
from  malignity  represent,  but  freedom  of  the  body  from  pain, 
and  of  the  soul  from  anxiety.  For  it  is  not  continuous 
drinkings  and  revellings,  nor  the  society  of  women,  nor  rare 
viands,  and  other  luxuries  of  the  table,  that  constitute  a 
pleasant  life,  but  sober  contemplation,  such  as  searches  out  the 
grounds  of  choice  and  avoidance,  and  banishes  those  chimeras 
that  harass  the  mind. 

Freedom  from  pain  is  thus  made  the  primary  element  of 
happiness :  a  one-sided  view,  repected  in  the  doctrine  of 
Locke,  that  it  is  not  the  idea  of  future  good,  but  the  pre- 
sent greatest  uneasiness  that  most  strongly  affects  tho  will. 
A  neutral  state  of  feeling  is  necessarily  imperilled  by  a  greedy 
pursuit  of  pleasures ;  hence  the  dictum,  to  be  content  with 
little  is  a  great  good;  because  little  is  most  easily  obtained. 
The  regulation  of  the  desires  is  therefore  of  high  moment. 
According  to  Epicurus,  desires  fall  into  three  grades.  Some 
are  ^mtural  and  necessary,  such  as  desire  of  drink,  food,  or 
life,  and  are  easily  gratified.  But  when  the  uneasiness  of  a 
want  is  removed,  the  bodily  pleasures  admit  of  no  farther 
increase  ;  anything  additional  only  varies  the  pleasure.  Hence 
the  luxuries  which  go  beyond  the  relief  of  our  wants  are 
thoroughly  superfluous  ;  and  the  desires  arising  from  them 
(forming  the  second  gTade)  though  natural,  are  not  necessary. 
A  tliird  class  of  desires  is  neither  natural  nor  necessary,  but 
begotten  of  vain  opinion  ;  such  as  the  thirst  for  civic  honours, 
or  for  power  over  others  ;  those  desires  are  the  most  diflicult  to 
gratify,  and  even  if  gratified,  entail  upon  us  trouble,  anxiety, 
and  peril.  [This  account  of  the  desires,  following  up  the 
advice — If  you  wish  to  be  rich,  study  not  to  increase  your 
goods,  but  to  diminish  your  desires— is  to  a  certain  extent 
wise  and  even  indispensable ;  yet  not  adapted  to  all  tempera- 
ments. To  those  that  enjoy  pleasure  very  highi}^,  and  are 
not  sensitive  in  an  equal  degree  to  pain,  such  a  negative  con- 
ception of  happiness  would  be  imperfect.]      Epicurus  did  not, 


114  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — EPICUKUS. 

however,  deprecate  positive  pleasure.  If  it  could  be  reached 
without  paiti,  and  did  not  result  in  pain,  it  was  a  pure  good ; 
tind,  even  if  it  could  not  be  had  without  pain,  the  question 
"was  still  open,  whether  it  might  not  be  well  worth  the  price. 
But  in  estimating  the  worth  of  pleasure,  the  absence  of  any 
accompanying  pain  should  weigh  heavil}''  in  the  balance.  At 
this  point,  the  Epicurean  theory  connects  itself  most  inti- 
mately with  the  conditions  of  virtue  ;  for  virtue  is  more  con- 
cerned with  averting  mischief  and  suffering,  than  with  multi- 
plying positive  enjoyments. 

Bodily  feeling,  in  the  Epicurean  psychology,  is  prior  in 
order  of  time  to  the  mental  element ;  the  former  was  primor- 
dial, while  the  latter  was  derivative  from  it  by  repeated  pro- 
cesses of  memory  and  association.  But  though  such  was  the 
order  of  sequence  and  generation,  yet  when  we  compare  the 
two  as  constituents  of  happiness  to  the  formed  man,  the 
mental  element  much  outweighed  the  bodily,  both  as  pain  and 
as  pleasure.  Bodily  pain  or  pleasure  exists  only  in  the  pre- 
sent; when  not  felt,  it  is  nothing.  Bat  mental  feelings  involve 
memory  and  hope — embrace  the  past  as  well  as  the  future — 
endure  for  a  long  time,  and  may  be  recalled  or  put  out  of 
sight,  to  a  great  degree,  at  our  discretion. 

This  last  point  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of 
the  Epicurean  mental  discipline.  Epicurus  deprecated  the 
general  habit  of  mankind  in  always  hankering  after  some 
new  satisfaction  to  come ;  always  discontented  with  the  pre- 
sent, and  oblivious  of  past  comforts  as  if  they  had  never  been. 
These  past  comforts  ought  to  be  treasured  up  by  memory  and 
reflection,  so  that  they  might  become  as  it  were  matter  for 
rumination,  and  might  serve,  in  trying  moments,  even  to 
counterbalance  extreme  physical  suffering.  The  health  of 
Epicurus  himself  was  very  bad  during  the  closing  years  of 
his  life.  There  remains  a  fragment  of  his  last  letter,  to  an 
intimate  friend  and  companion,  Idomeneus — 'I  write  this  to 
you  on  the  last  day  of  my  life,  which,  in  spite  of  the  severest 
internal  bodily  pains,  is  still  a  happy  day,  becaase  I  set  against 
them  In  the  balance  all  the  mental  pleasure  felt  in  the  recollec- 
tion of  my  past  conversations  with  you.  Take  care  of  the 
children  left  by  Metrodorus,  in  a  manner  worthy  of  your 
demeanour  from  boyhood  towards  me  and  towards  philosophy.' 
Bodily  pain  might  thus  be  alleviated,  when  it  occurred;  it 
might  be  greatly  lessened  in  occurrence,  by  prudent  and 
moderate  habits ;  lastly,  even  at  the  worst,  if  violent,  it  never 
lasted  long ;  if  not  violent,  it  might  be  patiently  borne,  and 


CAUSES    OF    HUMAN   MISERY.  115 

was    at   any  rate  terminated,  or  terminable  at  pleasure,  by 
deat\i. 

In  the  view  of  Epicurus,  the  chief  miseries  of  life  arose, 
not  from  bodily  pains,  but  partly  from  delusions  of  hope,  and 
exaggerated  aspirations  for  wealth,  honours,  power,  &c.,  in 
all  which  the  objects  appeared  most  seductive  from  a  distance, 
inciting  man  to  lawless  violence  and  treachery,  while  in  the 
reality  thej^  were  always  disappointments,  and  generally  some- 
thing worse ,  partly,  and  still  more,  from  the  delusions  of 
fear.  Of  this  last  sort,  were  the  two  greatest  torments  of 
human  existence — Fear  of  Death,  and  of  eternal  suffering  after 
death,  as  announced  by  prophets  and  poets,  and  Fear  of  the 
Gods.  Epicurus,  who  did  not  believe  in  the  continued 
existence  of  the  soul  separate  from  the  body,  declared  that 
there  could  never  be  any  rational  ground  for  fearing  death, 
since  it  was  simply  a  permanent  extinction  of  consciousness.* 
Death  was  nothing  to  us  (he  said)  ;  when  death  comes,  we 
are  no  more,  either  to  suffer  or  to  enjoy.  Yet  it  was  the 
groundless  fear  of  this  nothing  that  poisoned  all  the  tranquil- 
lity of  life,  and  held  men  imprisoned  even  when  existence  was  a 
torment.  Whoever  had  surmounted  that  fear  was  armed  at  once 
against  cruel  tyranny  and  against  all  the  gravest  misfortunes. 
Next,  the  fear  of  the  gods  was  not  less  delusive,  and  hardly 
less  tormenting,  than  the  fear  of  deith.  It  was  a  capital 
error  (Epicurus  declared)  to  suppose  that  the  gods  employed 
themselves  as  agents  in  working  or  superintending  the  march  of 
the  Cosmos  ;  or  in  conferring  favour  on  some  men,  and  admin- 
istering chastisement  to  others.  The  vulgar  religious  tales, 
which  represented  them  in  this  character,  were  untrue  and 
insulting  as  regards  the  gods  themselves,  and  pregnant  with 
perversion  and  misery  as  regards  the  hopes  and  fears  of  man- 
kind. Epicurus  believed  sincerely  in  the  gods  ;  reverenced 
them  as  beings  at  once  perfectly  happy,  immortal,  and  un- 
changeable ;  and  took  delight  in  the  public  religious  festivals 
and  ceremonies.  But  it  was  inconsistent  with  these  attri- 
butes, and  repulsive  to  his  feelings  of  reverence,  to  conceive 
them  as  agents.  The  idea  of  agency  is  derived  from  human 
experience  ;  w^e,  as  agents,  act  with  a  view  to  supply  some 
want,  to  falfil  some   obligation,  to  acquire  some  pleasure,  to 

*  The  soul,  according  to  Epicurus,  was  a  subtle  but  energetic  com- 
pound (of  air,  vapour,  heat,  and  another  naineltss  ingredient),  with  its  best 
parts  concentrated  in  the  chest,  j-et  pervading  and  sustaining  the  whole 
body ;  still,  however,  depending  for  its  support  on  the  body,  aud  incapable 
of  separate  or  disembodied  continuance. 


116  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— EPICUKUS. 

accomplish  some  object  desii'ed  but  not  yet  attained — in  short, 
to  fill  np  one  or  other  of  the  many  gaps  in  our  imperfect  happi- 
ness ;  the  gods  already  have  all  that  agents  strive  to  get,  and . 
more  than  agents  ever  do  get ;  their  condition  is  one  not  of 
agency,  but  of  tranquil,  self-sustaining,  fruition.  Accordingly, 
Epicurus  thought  (as  Aristotle*  had  thought  before  him) 
that  the  perfect,  eternal,  and  imperturbable  well-being  and 
felicity  of  the  gods  excluded  the  supposition  of  their  being 
agents.  He  looked  upon  them  as  types  of  that  unmolested 
safety  and  unalloyed  satisfaction  which  was  what  he  under- 
stood by  pleasure  or  happiness — as  objects  of  reverential 
envy,  whose  sympathy  he  was  likely  to  obtain  by  assimilating 
his  own  temper  and  condition  to  theirs,  as  far  as  human 
circumstances  allowed. 

These  theological  views  were  placed  by  Epicurus  in  the 
foreground  of  his  ethical  philosophy,  as  the  only  means  of 
dispelling  those  fears  of  the  gods  that  the  current  fables 
instilled  into  every  one,  and  that  did  so  much  to  destroy 
human  comfort  and  security.  He  proclaimed  that  beings  in 
immortal  felicity  neither  suffered  vexation  in  themselves  nor 
caused  vexation  to  others — neither  showed  anger  nor  favour 
to  particular  persons.  The  doctrine  that  they  were  the 
working  managers  in  the  aflairs  of  the  Cosmos,  celestial  and 
terrestrial,  human  and  extra-human,  he  not  only  repudiated 
as  incompatible  with  their  attributes,  but  declared  to  be  im- 
pious, considering  the  disorder,  sufferings,  and  violence, 
everywhere  visible.  He  disallowed  all  prophecy,  divination, 
and  oracular  inspiration,  by  which  the  public  around  him 
believed  that  the  gods  were  perpetually  communicating 
special  revelations  to  individuals,  and  for  which  Sokrates  had 
felt  so  peculiarly  thankful. f 

It  is  remarkable  that  Stoics  and  Epicureans,  in  spite  of 
their  marked  opposition  in  dogma  or  theory,  agreed  so  far 
in  practical  results,  that  both  declared  these  two  modes  of 
uneasiness  (fear  of  the  gods  and  fear  of  death)  to  be  the 
great  torments  of  human  existence,  and  both  strove  to  remove 
or  counterbalance  them. 

So  far,  the  teaching  of  Epicurus  appears  confined  to  the 
separate  happiness  of  each  individual,  as  dependent  upon  his 
own  prudence,  sobriety,  and  correct  views  of  Nature.     But 

•  Aristot.  De  Coelo.  II.  a.  12,  p.  292,  22,  6,  5.  In  the  Ethics,  Aristotle 
assigns  theorizing;  conttmplcition  to  thn  gods,  as  the  only  process  worthy 
of  their  exalted  dignity  and  supreme  felicity. 

tXenophon  Memor.  1.  1—10;  IV.  3—12. 


EECIPEOCITY   OF   JUSTICE   AND    OF   FRIENDSHIP.        117 

this  is  not  the  -whole  of  the  Epicurean  Ethics.  The  system 
also  considered,  ench  man  as  in  companionship  with  others ; 
The  precepts  were  shaped  accordingly,  first  as  to  Justice, 
next  as  to  Friendship.  In  both  these,  the  foundation  where- 
ou  Epicurus  built  was  Reciprocity :  not  pure  sacrifice 
to  others,  but  partnership  with  others,  beneficial  to  all. 
He  kept  the  ideas  of  self  and  of  others  inseparably  knit 
together  in  one  complex  association :  he  did  not  expel  or 
degrade  either,  in  order  to  give  exclusive  ascendancy  to  the 
otlier.  The  dictate  of  Natural  Justice  was  that  no  man 
should  hurt  another :  each  was  bound  to  abstain  from  doing 
harm  to  others ;  each,  on  this  condition,  was  entitled  to  count 
on  security  and  relief  from  the  fear  that  others  would  do  harm 
to  him.  Such  double  aspect,  or  reciprocity,  was  essential  to 
social  companionship :  those  that  could  not,  or  would  not, 
accept  this  covenant,  were  unfit  for  society.  If  a  man  does 
not  behave  justly  towards  others,  he  cannot  expect  that  they 
will  behave  justly  towards  him  ;  to  live  a  life  of  injustice,  and 
expect  that  others  will  not  find  it  out,  is  idle.  The  unjust 
man  cannot  enjoy  a  moment  of  security.  Epicurus  laid  it 
down  explicitly,  that  just  and  righteous  dealing  was  the  indis- 
pensable condition  to  every  one's  comfort,  and  was  the  best 
means  of  attaining  it. 

The  reciprocity  of  Justice  was  valid  towards  all  the  world; 
the  reciprocity  of  Friendship  went  much  farther  ;  it  involved 
indefinite  and  active  beneficence,  but  could  reach  only  to  a 
select  few.  Epicurus  insisted  emphatically  on  the  value  of 
friendship,  as  a  means  of  happiness  to  both  the  persons  so 
united.  He  declared  that  a  good  friend  was  another  self,  and 
that  friends  ought  to  be  prepared,  in  case  of  need,  to  die  for 
each  other.  Yet  he  dechned  to  recommend  an  established 
community  of  goods  among  the  members  of  his  fraternity,  as 
prevailed  in  the  Pythagorean  brotherhood  :  for  such  an  insti- 
tution (he  said)  implied  mistrust.  He  recommended  efforts 
to  please  and  to  serve,  and  a  forwardness  to  give,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  gaining  and  benefiting  a  friend,  and  he  even  declared 
that  there  was  more  pleasure  in  conferring  favours  than  iu 
receiving  them  ;  but  he  was  no  less  strenuous  in  inculcating 
an  intelligent  gi-atitude  on  the  receiver.  No  one  except  a 
wise  man  (he  said)  knew  how  to  return  a  favour  properly.* 

*  These  exhortations  to  active  friendship  were  not  unfruitful.  We 
know,  even  by  the  admission  of  witnesses  adverse  to  the  Epicurean 
doctrines,  that  the  harmony  amoni^  the  members  of  the  sect,  with  common 
Veneration  for  the  founder,  was  more  marked  and  more  enduring  thaD 


118  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS — EPICTKUS. 

Virtue  and  happiness,  in  the  theory  of  Epicarus,  were  thus 
inseparable.  A  man  could  not  be  happy  until  he  had  sur- 
mounted the  fear  of  death  and  the  fear  of  pods  instilled  by  the 
current  fables,  which  disturbed  all  tranquillity  of  mind  ;  until 
he  had  banished  those  factitious  desires  that  pushed  hira 
into  contention  for  wealth,  power,  or  celebrity  ;  nor  unless  he 
behaved  with  justice  to  all,  and  with  active  devoted  friendship 
towards  a  few.  Such  a  mental  condition,  which  he  thou^ht 
it  was  in  every  man's  power  to  acquire  by  appropriate  teaching 
and  companionship,  constituted  virtue  ;  and  was  the  sure  as  well 
as  the  only  precursor  of  genuine  happiness.  A  mind  thas  un-  . 
disturbed  and  purified  was  sufficient  to  itself.  The  mere  satis- 
faction of  the  wants  of  life,  and  the  conversation  of  friends, 
became  then  felt  pleasures ;  if  more  could  be  had  without  pre- 
ponderant mischief,  so  much  the  better;  but  Nature,  dis- 
burthencd  of  her  corruptions  and  prejudices,  required  no  more 
to  be  happy.  This  at  least  was  as  much  as  the  conditions  of 
humanity  admitted  :  a  tranquil,  undisturbed,  innocuous,  non- 
competitive fruition,  which  approached  most  nearly  to  the 
perfect  happiness  of  the  Grods.* 

The  Epicurean  theory  of  virtue  is  the  type  of  all  those  that 
make  an  enlightened  self-interest  the  basis  of  right  and 
wrong.  The  four  cardinal  virtues  were  explained  from  the 
Epicurean  point  of  view.  Pnidence  was  the  supreme  rule  of 
conduct.  It  was  a  calculation  and  balancing  of  pleasures  and 
pains.  Its  object  was  a  judicious  selection  of  pleasures  to  be 
sought.  It  teaches  men  to  forego  idle  wishes,  and  to  despise 
idle  fears.  Temrperance  is  the  management  of  sensual  plea- 
sures.    It  seeks  to  avoid  excess,  so  as  on  the  whole  to  extract 

that  exhibited  by  any  of  the  other  pbilosophicrtl  sects.  Epicurus 
himself  was  a  man  of  amiable  personal  qualities:  his  testament,  still 
remaining,  shows  an  affectionate  regard,  both  tor  his  surviving  friends, 
and  for  the  permanent  attachment  of  each  to  the  others,  as  well  as  of  all 
to  the  school.  Diogenes  Laertius  tells  us — nearly  '200  years  after  Christ, 
and  450  years  after  the  death  of  Epicurus — that  the  Epicurean  sect  still 
continued  its  numbers  and  dignity,  having  outlasted  its  contemporaries 
and  rivals.  The  harmony  among  the  Epicurean-!  may  be  explained,  not 
merely  from  the  temper  of  the  master,  but  partly  from  the  doctrines  and 
plan  of  life  that  he  recommended.  Ambiti  >n  and  love  of  power  were 
discouraged :  rivalry  among  the  members  for  succl'Ss,  either  political  or 
rhetorical,  was  at  any  rate  a  rare  exception :  all  were  taught  to  confine 
themselves  to  that  privacy  of  life  and  love  of  phil'>S!)i)}ucal  communion 
Avhich  alike  required  and  nourished  the  mutual  sympathies  of  the 
brotherhood. 

*  Consistently  with  this  view  of  happiness,  Epicurus  advised,  in 
regard  to  politics,  quiet  submission  to  estah  ished  authority,  without 
active  meddling  beyond  what  necessity  required. 


FREE-WILU  119 

AS  inucli  pleasure  as  our  bodily  organs  are  capable  of  affording. 
Fortitude  is  a  virtue,  because  it  overcomes  fear  and  pain.  It 
consists  in  facing  danger  or  enduring  pain,  to  avoid  greater 
possible  evils.  Justice  is  of  artificial  origin.  It  consists  in  a 
tacit  agreement  among  mankind  to  abstain  from  injaring  one 
another.  The  security  that  everj  man  has  in  his  person  and 
property,  is  the  great  consideration  urging  to  abstinence  from 
injuiing  others.  But  is  it  not  possible  to  commit  injustice 
with  safety  ?  The  answer  was,  '  Injustice  is  not  an  evil  in 
itself,  but  becomes  so  from  the  fear  that  haunts  the  iujurer  of 
not  being  able  to  escape  the  appointed  avengers  of  such  acts.' 

The  Physics  of  Epicurus  were  borrowed  in  the  main  from 
the  atomic  theory  of  Democritus,  but  were  modified  by  him  in 
a  manner  subservient  and  contributory  to  his  ethical  scheme. 
To  that  scheme  it  was  essential  that  those  celestial,  atmos- 
pheric, or  terrestrial  phenomena  that  the  pnblic  around  him 
ascribed  to  the  agency  and  purposes  of  the  gods,  should  be  un- 
derstood as  being  produced  by  physical  causes.  An  eclipse,  an 
earthquake,  a  storm,  a  shipwreck,  unusual  rain  or  drought,  a 
good  or  a  bad  harvest — and  not  merely  these,  but  many  other 
occurrences  far  smaller  and  more  unimportant,  as  we  may  see 
by  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  the  Characters  of  Tueophrastus 
— were  then  regarded  as  visitations  of  the  gods,  requiring  to 
be  interpreted  by  recognized  prophets,  and  to  be  appeased  by 
ceremonial  expiations.  When  once  a  man  became  convinced 
that  all  these  phenomena  proceeded  from  physical  agencies,  a 
host  of  terrors  and  anxieties  would  disappear  from  the  mind ; 
and  this  Epicurus  asserted  to  be  the  beueticeut  effect  and  real 
recommendation  of  physical  philosophy.  He  took  little  or  no 
thought  for  scientific  curiosity  as  a  motive  per  se,  which  both 
Democritus  and  Aristotle  put  so  much  in  the  foreground. 

Epicurus  adopted  the  atomistic  scheme  of  Democritus,  but 
with  some  important  variations.  He  conceived  that  the  atoms  all 
moved  with  equal  velocity  in  the  downward  direction  of  gravity. 
But  it  occurred  to  him  that  upon  this  hypothesis  there  could 
never  occur  any  collisions  or  combinations  of  the  atoms — 
nothing  but  continued  and  unchangeable  parallel  lines.  Accord- 
ingly, he  modified  it  by  saying  that  the  line  of  descent  was  not 
exactly  rectilinear,  but  that  each  atom  deflected  a  little  from  the 
straight  line,  and  each  in  its  OAvn  direction  and  degree  ;  so  that 
it  became  possible  to  assume  collisions,  resiliences,  adhesions, 
combinations,  among  them,  as  it  had  been  possible  under  the 
variety  of  original  movements  ascribed  to  them  by  Democritus. 
The  opponents  of  Epicurus  derided  this  auxiliary  hypothesis ; 


120  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — EPICURUS. 

they  affirmed  that  he  invented  the  individual  deflection  of  each 
atom,  without  assigning  any  cause,  and  only  because  he  was 
perplexed  hy  the  mystery  of  man's  free-ivtU.  But  Epicurus 
was  not  more  open  to  attack  on  this  ground  than  other  phy- 
sical philosophers.  Most  of  them  (except  perhaps  the  most 
consistent  of  the  Stoic  fatalists)  believed  that  some  among 
the  phenomena  of  the  universe  occurred  in  regular  and  pre- 
dictable sequence,  while  others  were  essentially  irregular  and 
unpredictable  ;  each  philosopher  devised  his  hypothesis,  and 
recognized  some  fundamental  principle,  to  explain  the  first 
class  of  phenomena  as  well  as  the  second.  Plato  admitted  an 
invincible  Erratic  necessity ;  Aristotle  introduced  Chance  and 
Spontaneity  ;  Democritus  multiplied  indefinitely  the  varieties 
of  atomic  movements.  The  hypothetical  deflexion  alleged 
by  Epicurus  was  his  way,  not  more  unwarranted  than  the 
others,  of  providing  a  fundamental  principle  for  the  unpre- 
dictable phenomena  of  the  universe.  Among  these  are  the 
mental  (including  the  volitional)  manifestations  of  men  and 
animals  ;  but  there  are  many  others  besides  ;  and  there  is  no 
ground  for  believing  that  the  mystery  of  free-will  was  pecu- 
liarly present  to  his  mind.  The  movements  of  a  man  or 
animal  are  not  exclusively  subject  to  gravitation  and  other 
general  laws  ;  they  are  partly  governed  by  mental  impulses 
and  by  forces  of  the  organism,  intrinsic  and  peculiar  to  him- 
self, unseen  and  unfelt  by  others.  For  these,  in  common  with 
many  other  untraceable  phenomena  in  the  material  world, 
Epicurus  probacies  a  principle  in  the  supplementary  hypo- 
thesis of  deflexion.  He  rejected  the  fatalism  contained 
in  the  theories  of  some  of  the  Stoics,  and  admitted  a 
limited  range  of  empire  to  chance,  or  irregularity.  But 
he  maintained  that  the  will,  far  from  being  among  the 
phenomena  essentially  irregular,  is  under  the  influence  of 
motives  ;  for  no  man  can  insist  more  strenuously  than  he 
does  (see  the  Letter  to  Menoeceus)  on  the  complete  power  of 
philosophy, — if  the  student  could  be  made  to  feel  its  necesbi-y 
and  desire  the  attainment  of  it,  so  as  to  meditate  and  engrain 
within  himself  sound  views  about  the  gods,  death,  and  human 
life  generally, — to  mould  oar  volitions  and  character  in  a 
manner  conformable  to  the  exigencies  of  virtue  and  happiness. 
When  we  read  the  explanations  given  by  Epicurus  and^ 
Lucretius  of  what  the  Epicurean  theory  really  was,  and  com- 
pare them  with  the  numerous  attacks  made  upon  it  by  oppo- 
nents, we  cannot  but  remark  that  the  title  or  formula  of  the 
theory   was   ill   chosen,   and  was  really   a   misnomer.     What 


PLOTINUS.  121 

Epicurus  meant  by  Pleasure  was,  not  what  most  people  meant 
by  it,  but  something  very, different — a  tranquil  and  comfortable 
state  of  mind  and  body  ;/much  the  same  as  what  Deniocritus 
had  expressed  before  him  by  the  phrase  evGv/nin.  This  last 
phrase  would  have  expressed  what  Epicurus  aimed  at,  neither 
more  nor  less.  It  would  at  least  have  preserved  his  theory 
from,  much  misplaced  sarcasm  and  aggressive  rhetoric. 

THE  NEO-PLATONISTS. 
PLOTINUS  (A.D.  205—70),  PORPHYRY,  &c. 

Constructed  with  reference  to  the  broken-down  state  of 
ancient  society,  and  seeking  its  highest  aim  in  a  regenera- 
tion of  humanity,  the  philosophical  system  of  Neo-Platonism 
was  throughout  ethical  or  ethico-religious  in  spirit ;  yet  its 
ethics  admits  of  no  great  development  according  to  the 
usual  topics.  A  pervading  ethical  character  is  not  incom- 
patible with  the  absence  of  a  regular  ethical  scheme;  and 
there  was  this  peculiarity  in  the  system,  that  its  end,  though 
professedly  moral,  was  to  be  attained  by  means  of  an  intel- 
lectual regimen.  In  setting  up  its  ideal  of  human  effort,  ifc 
was  least  of  all  careful  about  prescribing  a  definite  course  of 
external  conduct. 

The  more  strictly  ethical  views  of  Plotinus,  the  chief  re- 
presentative of  the  school,  are  found  mainly  in  the  first  of  the 
six  Enneads  into  which  Porphyry  collected  his  master's  essays. 
But  as  they  presuppose  the  cosmological  and  psychological 
doctrines,  their  place  in  the  works,  as  now  arranged,  is  to  be 
regarded  as  arbitrary.  The  soul  having  fallen  from  its 
original  condition,  and,  in  consequence  and  as  a  penalty, 
having  become  united  with  a  matei-ial  body,  the  one  true 
aim  recognized  for  human  action  is,  to  rise  above  the  de- 
basing connection  with  matter,  and  again  to  lead  the  old 
spiritual  life.  For  those  that  have  sunk  so  far  as  to  be  con- 
tent with  the  world  of  sense,  wisdom  consists  in  pursuino* 
pleasure  as  good,  and  shunning  pain  as  evil :  but  the  others 
can  partake  of  a  better  life,  in  different  degrees.  The  first 
Htep  in  reformation  is  to  practise  virtue  in  tlie  affairs  of  life, 
which  means  to  subject  Sense  and  the  lower  desires  to  Keason. 
This  is  done  in  the  fourfold  form  of  the  common  cardinal 
virtues,  called  political  bv  Plotinus,  to  mark  the  sphere  of 
action  where  they  can  be  exerted,  and  is  the  virtue  of  a  class 
of  men  capable  of  a  certain  elevation,  though  ignorant  of  all  the 

rest  that  lies  above  them.     A  second  step  is  made  throuf^-h  the 
6  r  o 


122  Kl'HlCAL   SYSTEMS — THE   NEO-PLATOXISTS. 

means  of  the  KaOa psei<}Ov inirifijing  virtues  ;  where  it  is  sought  to 
root  out,  instead  of  merely  moderating,  the  sensual  affections. 
If  the  soul  is  thus  altogether  freed  from  the  dominion  of  sense, 
it  becomes  at  once  able  to  follow  its  natural  bent  towards 
good,  and  enters  into  a  permanent  state  of  calm.  This  is 
virtue  in  its  true  meaning — becoming  like  to  the  Deity,  all 
that  went  before  being  merely  a  preparation.  The  pure  and 
perfect  life  of  the  soul  may  still  be  described  as  a  field 
whereon  the  four  virtues  are  exercised,  but  they  now  assume 
a  far  higher  meaning  than  as  political  virtues,  having  relation 
solely  to  the  contemplative  life  of  the  Nous. 

Happiness  is  unknown  to  Plotinus  as  distinct  from  per- 
fection, and  perfection  in  the  sense  of  having  subdued  all 
material  cravings  (except  as  regards  the  bare  necessities  of 
life),  and  entered  upon  the  undisturbed  life  of  contemplation. 
If  this  recalls,  at  least  in  name,  the  Aristotelian  ideal,  there 
are  points  added  that  appear  to  be  echoes  of  Stoicism.  Rapt 
in  the  contemplation  of  eternal  verities,  the  purified  soul  is 
indifferent  to  external  circumstances  :  pain  and  suffering  are 
unheeded,  and  the  just  man  can  feel  happy  even  in  the  bull  of 
Phalaris.  But  in  one  important  respect  the  Neo- Platonic 
teaching  is  at  variance  with  Stoical  doctrine.  Though  its 
first  and  last  precept  is  to  rid  the  soul  from  the  bondage  of 
matter,  it  warns  against  the  attempt  to  sever  body  and  soul 
by  suicide.  By  no  forcible  separation,  which  would  be 
followed  by  a  new  junction,  but  only  by  prolonged  internal 
effort  is  the  soul  so  set  free  from  the  world  of  sense,  as  to  be 
able  to  have  a  vision  of  its  ancient  home  while  still  in  the 
body,  and  to  return  to  it  at  death.  Small,  therefore,  as  is 
the  consideration  bestowed  by  Neo-Platonism  on  the  affairs 
of  practical  life,  it  has  no  disposition  to  shirk  the  burden  of 
them. 

One  other  peculiar  aim,  the  highest  of  all,  is  proposed  to 
the  soul  in  the  Alexandrian  philosophy.  It  is  peculiar,  because 
to  be  understood  only  in  connexion  with  the  metaphysics  and 
cosmology  of  the  system.  In  the  theory  of  Emanation,  the 
primordial  One  or  Good  emits  the  Nous  wherein  the  Ideas  are . 
immanent ;  the  Nous,  in  turn,  sends  forth  the  Soul,  and  the 
Soul,  Matter  or  nature  ;  the  gradation  applying  to  man  as  well 
as  to  the  Universe.  Now,  to  each  of  these  principles,  there  is 
a  corresponding  subjective  state  in  the  itmer  life  of  man. 
The  life  of  sense  answers  to  nature  or  the  material  body;  the 
virtue  that  is  founded  upon  free-will  and  reason,  to  the  soul ; 
the  contemplative  life,  as  the  result  of  complete  purificatioa 


J 


ABAELAKD.  123 

from  sense,  to  tlie  Nous  or  Sphere  of  Ideas ;  finally,  to  tbe  One 
or  Good,  supreme  in  the  scale  of  existence,  corresponds  the 
state  of  Love,  or,  in  its  highest  form,  Ecstasij.  This  peculiar 
elevation  is  something  far  above  the  highest  intellectual  con- 
templation, and  is  not  reached  by  thought.  It  is  not  even  a 
mere  intuition  of,  but  a  real  union  or  contact  with,  the  Good. 
To  attain  it,  there  must  be  a  complete  withdrawal  into  self 
from  the  external  world,  and  then  the  subject  must  wait 
quietly  till  perchanc^  the  stat"  comes  on.  It  is  one  of  ineffable 
bliss,  but,  from  the  nature  of  man,  transitory  and  rare. 

SCHOLASTIC  ETHICS. 

AiUELARD  (1079-1142)  has  a  special  treatise  on  the  subject 
of  Ethics,  entitled  Scito  te  ipsiom.  As  the  name  implies,  it 
lays  chief  stress  upon  the  Subjective  element  in  morality,  and, 
in  this  aspect,  is  considered  to  supply  the  idea  that  underlies 
a  very  large  portion  of  modern  ethical  speculation.  By  nature 
a  notoriously  independent  thinker,  Abaelard  claimed  for  philo- 
sophy the  right  of  discussing  ethical  questions  and  fixing  a 
natural  moral  law,  though  he  allowed  a  corrective  in  the 
Christian  scheme.  Having  this  position  with  reference  to  the 
church,  he  was  also  much  less  under  the  yoke  of  philosophical 
authority  than  his  successors,  from  living  at  a  time  when 
Aristotle  was  not  yet  supreme.  Yet,  with  Aristotle,  he  assigns 
the  attainment  of  the  highest  good  as  the  aim  of  all  human 
efibrt.  Ethics  showing  the  way ;  and,  with  the  schoolmen  gene- 
rally, pronounces  the  highest  good  to  be  God.  If  the  highest 
good  in  itself  is  God,  the  highest  human  good  is  love  to  God. 
This  is  attained  by  way  of  virtue,  which  is  a  good  Will  con- 
solidated into  a  habit.  On  the  influence  of  habit  on  action  his 
view  is  Aristotelian.  His  own  specialty  lies  in  his  judging 
actions  solely  with  reference  to  the  intention  (intentio)  of  the 
agent,  and  this  intention  with  reference  to  conscience  (con- 
scientia).  All  actions,  he  says,  are  in  themselves  indifferent, 
and  not  to  be  called  good  or  evil  except  from  the  intention  of 
the  doer.  Peccatum  is  properly  only  the  action  that  is  done 
with  evil  intent;  and  where  this  is  present,  where  the  mental 
consent  (consensus)  is  clearly  established,  there  is  peccatum^ 
though  the  action  remains  unexecuted.  When  the  consensus 
is  absent,  as  in  original  sin,  there  is  only  vitium ;  hence,  a 
life  without  peccata  is  not  impossible  to  men  in  the  exercise 
of  their  freedom,  however  difficult  it  may  be. 

The  supremacy  assigned  by  him  to  the  subjective  element 
of  conscience  appears  in  such  phrases  as,  there  is  no  sin  except 


124  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS  -  SCHOLASTIC   ETHICS. 


I 


against  conscience ;  also  in  the  opinion  he  pronounces,  that, 
though  in  the  case  of  a  mistaken  moral  conviction,  an  action 
is  not  to  be  called  good,  yet  it  is  not  so  bad  as  an  action 
objectively  right  but  done  against  conscience.  Thus,  with- 
out allowing  that  conscientious  persecutors  of  Christians  act 
rightly,  he  is  not  afraid,  in  the  application  of  his  principle, 
to  say  that  they  would  act  still  more  wrongly  if  through 
not  listening  to  their  conscience,  they  spared  their  victims. 
But  this  means  only  that  by  following-  conscience  we  avoid 
sinning;  for  virtue  in  the  full  sense,  ic  is  necessary  that  the 
conscience  should  have  judged  rightly.  By  what  standard, 
however,  this  is  to  be  ascertained,  he  nowhere  clearly  says. 
Contemptus  Dei,  given  by  him  as  the  real  and  only  thing  that 
constitutes  an  action  bad,  is  merely  another  subjective  de- 
scription. 

St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  (1091-1153),  the  strenuous 
opponent  of  Abaelard,  and  the  great  upholder  of  mysticism 
against  rationahsm  in  the  early  scholastic  period  when  the 
two  were  not  yet  reconciled,  gave  utterance,  in  the  course  of 
his  mystical  effusions,  to  some  special  views  of  love  and  dis- 
interestedness. 

There  are  two  degrees  of  Christian  virtue.  Humility  and 
Charity  or  Love.  When  men  look  into  themselves,  and  behold 
the  meanness  that  is  found  there,  the  fitting  state  of  mind  is, 
first,  humility;  but  soon  the  sense  of  their  very  weakness 
begets  in  them  charity  and  compassion  towards  others,  while 
the  sense  also  of  a  certain  human  dignity  raises  within  them 
feelings  of  love  towards  the  author  of  then'  being.  The  treatise 
De  Amove  Dei  sets  forth  tlie  nature  of  this  love,  which  is  the 
highest  exercise  of  human  powers.  Its  fundamental  charac- 
teristic is  its  disinterestedness.  It  has  its  reward,  but  from 
meriting,  not  from  seeking.  It  is  purely  voluntary,  and,  as  a 
free  sentiment,  necessarily  unbought;  it  has  God  for  its  single 
object,  and  would  not  be  love  to  God,  if  he  were  loved  for  the 
sake  of  something  else. 

He  distinguishes  various  degrees  of  love.  There  is,  first, 
a  natural  love  of  self  for  the  sake  of  self.  Next,  a  motion 
of  love  towards  God  amid  earthly  misfortunes,  which  also  is 
not  disinterested.  The  third  degree  is  different,  being  love  to 
God  for  his  own  sake,  and  to  our  neighbour  for  God's  sake. 
But  the  highest  grade  of  all  is  not  reached,  until  men  come  to 
love  even  themselves  only  by  relation  to  God ;  at  this  point, 
with  the  disappearance  of  all  special  and  interested  affectioii, 
the  mystic  goal  is  attained. 


REVIVAL   OF  ARISTOTLE.  125 

John  of  Salisbury  (d.  1180)  is  the  last  name  to  be  cited 
in  the  early  scholastic  period.  He  professed  to  be  a  practical 
philosopher,  to  be  more  concerned  about  the  uses  of  know- 
ledge than  about  knowledge  itself,  and  to  subordinate  every- 
thing to  some  purpose  ;  by  way  of  protest  against  the  theo- 
retic hair-splitting  and  verbal  subtleties  of  his  pi-edecessors. 
Even  more  than  in  Ethics,  he  found  in  Politics  his  proper  sphere. 
He  was  the  staunchest  upholder  of  the  Papal  Supremacy, 
which,  after  long  struggles,  was  about  to  be  established  at  its 
greatest  height,  before  presiding  at  the  opening  of  the  most 
brilliant  period  of  scholasticism. 

In  the  PoUcratlcus  especially,  but  also  in  his  other  works, 
the  foundations  and  provisions  of  his  moral  system  are  found. 
He  has  no  distinction  to  draw  in  Ethics  between  theology  and 
philosophy,  but  uses  Scidpture  and  observation  alike,  though 
Scripture  always  in  the  final  appeal.  Of  philosophizing,  the 
one  final  aim,  as  also  of  existence,  is  Happiness ;  the  question 
of  questions,  how  it  is  to  be  attained.  Happiness  is  not 
pleasure,  nor  possession,  nor  honour,  but  consists  in  following 
the  path  of  virtue.  Virtue  is  to  be  understood  from  the  consti- 
tution of  human  nature.  In  man,  there  is  a  lower  and  a  higher 
faculty  of  Desire;  or,  otherwise  expressed,  there  are  the 
various  afiections  that  have  their  roots  in  sense  and  centre  in 
self-love  or  the  desire  of  self-preservation,  and  there  is  also  a 
natural  love  of  justice  implanted  from  the  beginning.  In 
proportion  as  the  appetitus  justi,  which  consists  in  will, 
gains  upon  the  appetitus  commodi,  men  become  more  worthy 
of  a  larger  happiness.  Self-love  rules  in  man,  so  long  as 
he  is  in  the  natural  state  of  sin  ;  if,  amid  great  conflict  and 
by  divine  help,  the  higher  affection  gains  the  upper  hand, 
the  state  of  true  virtue,  which  is  identical  with  the  theoretic 
state  of  belief,  and  also  of  pure  love  to  God  and  man,  is 
reached. 

By  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century,  the  schoolmen  had 
before  them  the  whole  works  of  Aristotle,  obtained  from 
Arabian  and  other  sources.  Whereas,  previous  to  this  time, 
they  had  comprehended  nearly  all  the  subjects  of  Philosophy 
under  the  one  name  of  Dialectics  or  Logic,  always  reserving, 
however.  Ethics  to  Theology,  they  were  now  made  aware  of 
the  ancient  division  of  the  sciences,  and  of  what  had  been 
accomplished  in  each.  The  effect,  both  in  respect  of  form 
and  of  subject-matter,  was  soon  apparent  in  such  compilations 
or  more  independent  works  as  they  w^ere  able  to  produce 
after  their  commentaries  on   the  Aristotelian  text.     But  in 


126  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— SCH0LA.ST1C    ETHICS. 

Ethics,  the  nature  of  the  subject  demanded  of  men  in 
their  position  a  less  entire  submission  to  the  doctrines  of 
the  pagan  philosopher ;  and  here  accordingly  they  clung 
to  the  traditional  theological  treatment.  If  they  were 
commenting  on  the  Ethics  of  Aristotle,  the  Bible  was  at  hand 
to  supply  his  omissions  ;  if  they  were  setting  up  a  complete 
moral  system,  they  took  little  more  than  the  ground-work 
from  him,  the  rest  being  Cliristian  ideas  and  precepts,  or 
fragments  borrowed  from  Platonism  and  other  Greek  systems, 
nearly  allied  in  spirit  to  their  own  faith. 

This  is  especially  true,  as  will  be  seen,  of  Thomas  Aquinas. 
His  predecessors  can  be  disposed  of  in  a  few  words. 
Alexander  of  Hales  (d.  1245)  was  almost  purely  theological. 
BoNAVENTURA  (1221-74)  in  his  double  character  of  rigid  Fran- 
ciscan and  mystic,  was  led  far  beyond  the  Aristotelian  Ethics. 
The  mean  between  excess  and  defect  is  a  very  good  rule  for 
the  affairs  of  life,  but  the  true  Christian  is  bound  besides  to 
works  of  supererogation :  first  of  all,  to  take  on  the  con- 
dition of  poverty ;  while  the  state  of  mystic  contemplation 
remains  as  a  still  higher  goal  for  the  few.  Albert  the  Great 
(1193-1280),  the  most  learned  and  complete  commentator  of 
Aristotle  that  had  yet  appeared,  divide  the  whole  subject  of 
Ethics  into  Monastica^  (Econoniica,  and  Politica.  In  this 
division,  which  is  plainly  suggested  by  the  Aristotelian  division 
of  Politics  in  the  large  sense,  the  term  Monastica  not  inaptly 
expresses  the  reference  that  Ethics  has  to  the  conduct  of  men 
as  individuals.  Albert,  however,  in  commenting  on  the 
Nicomachean  Ethics,  adds  exceeedingly  little  to  the  results  of 
his  author  beyond  the  incorporation  of  a  few  Scriptural  ideas. 
To  the  cardinal  virtues  he  appends  the  virhites  adj^mctce^ 
Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  and  again  in  his  compendious  work, 
Summa  TheoIogicE,  distinguishes  them  as  i7ifus<B,  the  cardinal 
being  considered  as  acquisitce. 

Besides  his  commentaries  on  the  Aristotelian  works  (the 
Ethics  included)  and  many  other  writings,  Thomas  AquixaS 
(1226-74)  left  two  lai^ge  works,  the  Smnma  jphilosopliicob 
and  the  famous  Summcb  Theologioe.  Notwithstanding  the 
prominence  assigned  to  theological  questions,  the  first  is  a 
regular  philosophical  work ;  the  second,  though  containing 
the  exposition  of  philosophical  opinions,  is  a  theological  text- 
book. Now,  as  it  is  in  the  Summary  for  theological  purposes 
that  the  whole  practical  philosophy  of  Aquinas  is  contained, 
it  is  to  be  inferred  that  he  regarded  the  subject  of  Ethics 
as  not  on  the  same  level  with  other  departments  of  philo- 


THOMAS  AQUINAS.  127 

Bophy.  Moreover,  even  when  he  is  not  appealing  to  Scrip- 
ture, he  is  seen  to  display  what  is  for  him  a  most  unusual 
tendency  to  desert  Aristotle,  at  the  really  critical  moments, 
for  Plato  or  Plotinus,  or  any  other  authority  of  a  more  theo- 
logical cast. 

In. the  (unfinished)  Summa  Theologice,  the  Ethical  views 
and  cognate  questions  occupy  the  two  sections  of  the  second 
part — the  so-called  prima  and  secunda  secundce.  He  begins,  in 
the  Aristotelian  fashion,  by  seeking  an  ultimate  end  of  human 
action,  and  finds  it  in  the  attainment  of  the  highest  good  or 
happiness.  But  as  no  created  thing  can  answer  to  the  idea 
of  the  highest  good,  it  must  be  placed  in  God.  God,  however, 
as  the  highest  good,  can  only  be  the  object,  in  the  search  after 
human  happiness,  for  happiness  in  itself  is  a  state  of  the 
mind  or  act  of  the  soul.  The  question  then  arises,  what  sort 
of  act  ?  Does  it  fall  under  the  Will  or  under  the  Intelligence  ? 
The  answer  is,  ISTot  under  the  will,  because  happiness  is  neither 
desire  nor  pleasure,  but  consecucio,  that  is,  a  possessing.  Desire 
precedes  consecutio,  and  pleasure  follows  upon  it ;  but  the  act 
of  getting  possession,  in  which  lies  happiness,  is  distinct  from 
both.  This  is  illustrated  by  the  case  of  the  miser  having  his 
happiness  in  the  mere  possession  of  money  ;  and  the  position 
is  essentially  the  same  as  Butler's,  in  regard  to  our  appetites 
and  desires,  that  they  blindly  seek  their  objects  with  no  regard 
to  pleasure.  Thomas  concludes  that  the  consecutio,  or  hap- 
piness, is  an  act  of  the  intelligence ;  what  pleasure  there  is 
being  a  mere  accidental  accompaniment. 

Distinguishing  between  two  phases  of  the  intellect — the 
theoretic  and  the  practical — in  the  one  of  which  it  is  an  end 
to  itself,  but  in  the  other  subordinated  to  an  external  aim,  he 
places  true  happiness  in  acts  of  the  self-sufficing  theoretic 
intelligence.  In  this  life,  however,  such  a  constant  exercise 
of  the  intellect  is  not  possible,  and  accordingly  what  happi- 
ness there  is,  must  be  found,  in  great  measure,  in  the  exercise 
of  the  practical  intellect,  directing  and  governing  the  lower 
desires  and  passions.  This  twofold  conception  of  happiness 
is  Aristotelian,  even  as  expressed  by  Thomas  under  the 
distinction  of  perfect  and  imperfect  happiness ;  but  when 
he  goes  on  to  associate  perfect  happiness  with  the  future 
life  only,  to  found  an  argument  for  a  future  life  from  the 
desire  of  a  happiness  more  perfect  than  can  be  found  here, 
and  to  make  the  pure  contemplation,  in  which  consists  highest 
bliss,  a  vision  of  the  divine  essence  face  to  face,  a  direct 
cognition  of  Deity  far  surpassing  demonstrative  knowledge  or 


128  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— SCHOLASTIC    ETHICS. 


1 


mortal  faith — he  is  more  theologian  than  philosopher,  or  if 
a  philosopher,  more  Platonist  than  Aristotelian. 

The  condition  of  perfect  happiness  being  a  theoretic  or 
intellectual  state,  the  vislo,  and  not  the  dtlectatio,  is  consistently 
given  as  its  central  fact;  and  when  he  proceeds  to  consider  the 
other  questions  of  Ethics,  the  same  superiority  is  steadily 
ascribed  to  the  intellectual  function.  It  is  because  we  k7ww  a 
thing  to  be  good  that  we  wish  it,  and  knowing  it,  we  cannot 
help  wishing.  Conscience,  as  the  name  implies,  is  allied  to 
knowledge.     Reason  gives  the  law  to  will. 

After  a  long  disquisition  about  the  passions  and  the  whole 
appetitive  side  of  human  nature,  over  which  Reason  is  called 
to  rule,  he  is  brought  to  the  subject  of  virtue.  ■  He  is  Aristo- 
telian enough  to  describe  virtue  as  habitus — a  disposition  or 
quality  (like  health)  whereby  a  subject  is  more  or  less  well  dis- 
posed with  reference  to  itself  or  something  else ;  and  he  takes 
account  of  the  acquisition  of  good  moral  habits  (virtutes  acqui- 
sitoe)  by  practice.  But  with  this  he  couples,  or  tends  to  sub- 
stitute for  it,  the  definition  of  Augustin  that  virtue  is  a  good 
quality  of  mind,  qaam  Deus  in  nobis  sine  nobis  operatur,  as 
a  gTound  for  virtutes  iiifusce,  conferred  as  gifts  upon  man,  or 
rather  on  certain  men,  by  free  grace  from  on  high.  He 
wavers  greatly  at  this  stage,  and  in  this  respect  his  attitude  is 
characteristic  for  all  the  schoolmen. 

So  again  in  passing  from  the  general  question  of  Virtue 
to  the  virtues,  he  puts  several  of  the  systems  under  contribu- 
tion, as  if  not  prepared  to  leave  the  guidance  of  Aristotle,  but 
feeling  at  the  same  time  the  necessity  of  bridging  over  the 
distance  between  his  position  and  Christian  requirements. 
Understanding  Aristotle  to  make  a  co-ordinate  division  of 
virtues  into  Moral  and  Intellectual,  he  gives  reasons  for  such 
a  step.  Though  virtue,  he  says,  is  not  so  much  the  perfecting 
of  the  operation  of  our  faculties,  as  their  employment  by  the 
will  for  good  ends,  it  may  be  used  in  the  first  sense,  and  thus 
the  intellectual  virtues  will  be  the  habits  of  intelligence  that 
procure  the  truest  knowledge.  The  well-known  division  of 
the  cardinal  virtues  is  his  next  theme ;  and  it  is  established  as 
complete  and  satisfactory  by  a  twofold  deduction.  But  a 
still  higher  and  more  congenial  view  is  immediately  after- 
wards adopted  from  Plotinus.  This  is  the  Neo-Platonio 
description  of  the  four  virtues  as  j}o?/^/cce,  imrgatorice,  and 
purgati  animi,  according  to  the  scale  of  elevation  reached 
by  the  soul  in  its  efforts  to  mount  above  sense.  They  are 
called  by  Thomas  also  exemplares,   when  regarded  at  once 


AQUINAS   ON   THE  VIRTUES.  129 

as  the  essence  of  the  Deity,  and  as  the  models  of  human 
perfections. 

This  mystical  division,  not  unsupported  by  philosophical 
authority,  smooths  the  way  for  his  account  of  the  highest 
or  theological  virtues.  These  bear  upon  the  vision  of  Deity, 
which  was  recognized  above  as  the  highest  good  of  humanity, 
and  form  an  order  apart.  They  have  God  for  their  object, 
are  altogether  inspired  by  God  (hence  called  infusce),  and  are 
taught  by  revelation.  Given  in  connection  with  the  natural 
faculties  of  intellect  and  will,  they  are  exhibited  in  the  attain- 
ment of  the  supernatural  order  of  things.  With  intellect  goes 
Faith,  as  it  were  the  intellect  applied  to  things  not  intelligible  ; 
"with  Will  go  Hope  and  Charity  or  Love  :  Hope  being  the  Will 
exercised  upon  things  not  naturally  desired,  and  Love  the 
union  of  Will  with  what  is  not  naturally  brought  near  to  us. 

Aquinas  then  passes  to  politics,  or  at  least  the  discussion 
of  the  political  ideas  of  law,  right,  &c. 

Coming  now  to  modern  thinkers,  we  begin  with 

THOMAS  HOBBES.        [1588-1679.] 

The  circumstances  of  Hobbes's  life,  so  powerful  in  deter- 
mining the  nature  of  his  opinions,  had  an  equally  marked 
effect  on  the  order  and  number  of  expositions  that  he  gave  to 
the  psychological  and  political  parts  of  his  system.  His 
ethical  doctrines,  in  as  far  as  they  can  be  dissociated  from 
his  politics,  may  be  t-ludied  in  no  less  than  three  distinct 
forms  ;  either  in  the  hrst  part  of  the  Leviathian  (1651)  ;  or 
in  the  De  Cive  (1647),  taken  along  with  the  De  Homine 
(1658);  or  in  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature  (1650,  but  written 
ten  years  earlier),  coupled  with  the  De  Corpore  Politico  (also 
1650).  But  the  same  result,  or  with  only  unimportant  varia- 
tions, being  obtained  from  all,  we  need  not  here  go  beyond 
the  first-mentioned. 

In  the  first  part  of  the  Leviathan,  then,  bearing  the  title 
Of  Man,  and  designed  to  consider  Man  as  at  once  the  matter 
and  artificer  of  the  Commonwealth  or  State,  Hobbes  is  led, 
after  discussing  Sense,  Imagination,  Train  of  Imaginations, 
Speech,  Reason  and  Science,  to  take  up,  in  chapter  sixth,  the 
Passions,  or,  as  he  calls  them,  the  Interior  beginnings  of  volun- 
tary motions.  Motions,  he  says,  are  either  vital  and  animal, 
or  voluntary.  Vital  motions,  e.g.,  circulation,  nutrition,  &c., 
need  no  help  of  imagination ;  on  the  other  hand,  voluntary 
motions,  as  going  and  speaking — since  they  depend  on  a  pre- 
cedent thought  of  whither,  which  way,  and  what — have  in 


130  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 

the  imagination  their  first  beginning.  But  imagination  is 
only  the  relics  of  sense,  and  sense,  as  Hobbes  always  declares, 
is  motion  in  the  human  organs  communicated  by  objects 
without ;  consequently,  visible  voluntary  motions  begin  in 
invisible  internal  motions,  whose  nature  is  expressed  by  the 
word  Endeavour.  When  the  endeavour  is  towards  something 
causing  it,  there  is  Appetite  or  Desire  ;  endeavour  '  fromward 
something '  is  Aversion,  These  very  words,  and  the  corre- 
sponding terms  in  Greek,  imply  an  actual,  not — as  the  school- 
men absurdly  think — a  metaphorical  motion.  Passing  from 
the  main  question,  he  describes  Love  and  Hate  as  Desire  and 
Aversion  when  the  object  is  present.  Of  appetites,  some  are 
born  with  us,  others  proceed  from  experience,  being  of  parti- 
cular things.  Where  we  neither  desire  nor  hate,  we  contemn 
[he  means,  disregard].  Appetites  and  aversions  vary  in  the 
same  person,  and  much  more  in  differenrt  persons. 

Then  follows  his  definition  of  good, — the  object  of  any 
man's  appetite  or  desire,  as  evil  is  the  object  of  his  hate  and 
aversion.  Good  and  evil  are  always  merely  relative,  either  to 
the  person  of  a  man,  or  in  a  commonwealth  to  the  representa- 
tive person,  or  to  an  arbitrator  if  chosen  to  settle  a  dispute. 
Good  in  the  promise  is  pulchrum,  for  which  there  is  no  exact 
English  term ;  good  in  the  effect,  as  the  end  desired,  is 
delightful ;  good  as  the  means,  is  useful  or  profitable.  There 
is  the  same  variety  of  evil. 

His  next  topic  is  Pleasure.  As  sense  is,  in  reality,  motion, 
but,  in  ^apparence/  light  or  sound  or  odour;  so  appetite,  in 
reality  a  motion  or  endeavour  effected  in  the  heart  by  the 
action  of  objects  through  the  organs  of  sense,  is,  in  'appar- 
ence,'  delight  or  trouble  of  mind.  The  emotion,  whose  ap- 
jparence  {i.e.,  subjective  side)  is  pleasure  or  delight,  seems 
to  be  a  corroboration  of  vital  motion ;  the  contrary,  in  the 
case  of  1  olestation.  Pleasure  is,  therefore,  the  sense  of 
good ;  displeasure,  the  sense  of  evil.  The  one  accompanies, 
in  greater  or  less  degree,  all  desire  and  love;  the  other, 
all  aversion  and  hatred.  Pleasures  are  either  of  sense; 
or  of  the  mind,  when  arising  from  the  expectation  that  pro- 
ceeds from  the  foresight  of  the  ends  or  consequence  of  things, 
irrespective  of  their  pleasing  the  senses  or  not.  For  these 
mental  pleasures,  there  is  the  general  name  joy.  There  is  a 
corresponding  division  of  displeasure  into  pai^i  and  grief. 

All  the  other  passions,  he  now  proceeds  to  show,  are 
these  simple  passions — appetite,  desire,  love,  aversion,  hate, 
joy,  and  grief,  diversified  in  name  for  divers  considerations. 


SIMPLE  PASSIONS.  131 

Incidental  remarks  of  ethical  importance  are  these.  CoveU 
ou87iess,  the  desire  of  riches,  is  a  name  signifying  blame, 
because  men  contending  for  them  are  displeased  with  others 
attaining  them  ;  the  desii^e  itself,  however,  is  to  be  blamed  or 
allowed,  according  to  the  means  whereby  the  riches  are  sought. 
Curiosihj  is  a  lust  of  the  mind,  that  by  a  perseverance  of  delight 
in  the  continual  ganeration  of  knowledge,  exceedeth  the  short 
vehemence  of  any  carnal  pleasure.  Pit;/  is  grief  for  the  calamity 
of  another,  arising  from  the  imagination  of  the  like  calamity 
befalling  one's  self;  the  best  men  have,  therefjre,  least  pity 
for  calamity  arising  from  great  wickedness.  Coyiteirqd,  or  little 
sense  of  the  calamity  of  others,  proceeds  from  security  of  one's 
own  fortune  ;  '  for  that  any  man  should  take  pleasure  in  other 
men's  great  harms,  without  other  end  of  his  own,  I  do  not 
conceive  it  possible.' 

Having  explained  the  various  passions,  he  then  gives  his 
theory  of  the  Will.  He  supposes  a  liberty  in  man  of  doing  or 
omitting,  according  to  appetite  or  aversion.  But  to  this 
liberty  an  end  is  put  in  the  state  of  delihei-ation  wherein  there 
is  kept  up  a  constant  succession  of  alternating  desires  and 
aversions,  hopes  and  fears,  regarding  one  and  the  same  thing. 
One  of  two  results  follows.  Either'the  thing  is  judged  im- 
possible, or  it  is  done  ;  and  this,  according  as  aversion  or 
appetite  triumphs  at  the  last.  Now,  the  last  aversion,  fol- 
lowed by  omission,  or  the  last  appet-to,  followed  by  action, 
is  the  act  of  Willing.  Will  is,  tiierefore,  the  last  appetite 
(taken  to  include  aversion)  in  deliberating.  So-called  Will, 
that  has  been  forborne,  was  inclination  merely :  but  the  last 
inclination  with  consequent  action  (or  omission)  is  Will,  or 
voluntary  action. 

After  mentioning  the  forms  of  speech  where  the  several 
passions  and  appetites  are  naturally  expressed,  and  remarking 
that  the  truest  signs  of  passion  are  in  the  countenance, 
motions  of  the  body,  actions,  and  ends  or  aims  otherwise 
known  to  belong  to  a  man, — he  returns  to  the  question  of  good 
and  evil.  It  is  apparent  good  and  evil,  come  at  by  the  best 
possible  foresight  of  all  the  consequences  of  action,  that  excite 
the  appetites  and  aversions  in  deliberation.  Felicitij  he  defines 
continual  success  in  obtaining  the  things  from  time  to  time 
desired;  perpetual  tranqnillity  of  mind  being  impossible  in 
this  life,  which  is  but  motion,  and  cannot  be  without  desire 
and  fear  any  more  than  without  sense.  The  happiness  of  the 
ftiture  life  is  at  present  unknown. 

Men,  he  says  at  the  close,  praise  the  goodness,  and  magnify 


132  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 

the  greatness,  of  a  thing;  the  Greeks  had  also  the  word 
fiaicapia/ii6^,  to  express  an  opinion  of  a  man's  felicity. 

In  Chapter  VII,,  Of  the  Ends  of  Discourse,  he  is  led  to 
remark  on  the  meaning  of  Cunscience,  in  connection  with  the 
word  Conscious.  Two  or  more  men,  he  says,  are  conscious  of 
a  thing  when  they  know  it  together  {con-sclre.)  Hence  arises 
the  proper  meaning  of  conscience ;  and  the  evil  of  speaking 
against  one's  conscience,  in  this  sense,  is  to  be  allowed.  Two 
other  meanings  are  metaphorical :  when  it  is  put  for  a  man's 
knowledge  of  his  own  secret  facts  and  thoughts ;  and  when  men 
give  their  own  new  opinions,  however  absurd,  the  reverenced 
name  of  conscience,  as  if  they  would  have  it  seem  unlawful  to 
change  or  speak  against  them.  [Hobbes  is  not  concerned  to 
foster  the  moral  independence  of  individuals.] 

He  begins  Chapter  YIII.  by  defining  Virtue  as  something 
that  is  valued  for  eminence,  and  that  consists  in  comparison, 
but  proceeds  to  consider  only  the  intellectual  virtues — all  that 
is  summed  up  in  the  term  of  a  good  ivit — and  their  opposites. 
Farther  on,  he  refers  difference  of  wits — discretion,  prudence, 
craft,  &c. — to  diiFerence  in  the  passions,  and  this  to  difference 
in  constitution  of  body  and  of  education.  The  passions 
chiefly  concerned  are  the  desires  of  power,  riches,  knowledge, 
honour,  but  all  may  be  reduced  to  the  single  desire  of  power. 

In  Chapter  IX.  is  given  his  Scheme  of  Sciences.  The 
relation  in  his  mind  bciwoen  Ethics  and  Politics  is  here  seen. 
Science  or  Philosophy  is  divided  into  Natural  or  Civil,  ac- 
cording as  it  is  knowledge  of  consequences  from  the  accidents 
of  natural  bodies  or  of  politic  bodies.  Ethics  is  one  of  the 
ultimate  divisions  of  Natural  Philosophy,  dealing  with  conse- 
quences from  the  passions  of  men ;  and  because  the  passions 
are  qualities  of  bodies,  it  falls  more  immediately  under  the 
head  of  Physics.  Politics  is  the  whole  of  the  second  main 
division,  and  deals  with  consequences  from  the  institution  of 
commonwealths  (1)  to  the  rights  and  duties  of  the  Sovereign, 
and  (2)  to  the  duty  and  right  of  the  Subject. 

Ethics,  accordingly,  in  Hobbes's  eyes,  is  part  of  the  science 
of  man  (as  a  natural  body),  and  it  is  always  treated  as  such. 
But  subjecting,  as  he  does,  so  much  of  the  action  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  action  of  the  state,  he  necessarily  includes  in 
his  Politics  many  questions  that  usually  fall  to  Ethics.  Hence 
arises  the  necessity  of  studying  for  his  Ethics  also  part  of  the 
civil  Philosophy;  though  it  happens  that,  in  the  Leviathan, 
this  requisite  part  is  incorporated  with  the  Section  containing 
the  Science  of  Man. 


POWEK. — HAPPINESS.  133 

Chapter  X.  is  on  Power,  Worth,  Dignity,  Honour,  and 
Worthiness.  A  nian's  power  being  his  present  means  to 
obtain  some  future  apparent  good,  he  enumerates  all  the 
sources  of  original  and  acquired  power.  The  ivorth  of  a  man 
is  what  would  be  given  for  the  use  of  his  power ;  it  is,  there- 
fore, never  absolute,  but  dependent  on  the  need  and  judgment 
of  another.  Diguity  is  the  value  set  on  a  man  by  the  state. 
Honour  and  dishonour  are  the  manifestation  of  value.  He  goes 
through  all  the  signs  of  honour  and  dishonour.  Honourable 
is  any  possession,  action,  or  quality  that  is  the  sign  of  power. 
Where  there  is  the  opinion  of  power,  the  justice  or  injustice 
of  an  action  does  not  affect  the  honour.  He  clearly  means  a 
universally  accepted  opinion  of  power,  and  cites  the  characters 
of  the  pagan  deities.  So,  too,  before  times  of  civil  order,  it  was 
held  no  dishonour  to  be  a  pirate,  and  even  still,  duels,  though 
unlawful,  are  honourable,  and  will  be  till  there  be  honour 
ordained  for  them  that  refuse.  Farther  on,  he  distinguishes 
Worthiness^  (1)  from  worth,  Pvnd  (2)  from  merit,  or  the  posses- 
sion of  a  particular  ability  or  desert,  which,  as  will  be  seen, 
presupposes  a  right  to  a  thing,  founded  on  a  promise. 

Chapter  XI,  bears  the  title.  Of  the  difference  of  Manners ; 
by  manners  being  meant,  not  decency  of  behaviour  and  points 
of  the  *  small  morals,'  but  the  qualities  of  mankind  that  con- 
cern their  living  together  in  peace  and  unity.  Felicity  of 
life,  as  before,  he  pronounces  to  be  a  continual  progress  of 
desire,  there  being  no  finis  ultlmus  nor  summum  honum.  The 
aim  of  all  men  is,  therefore,  not  only  to  enjoy  once  and  for  an 
instant,  but  to  assure  for  ever  the  way  of  future  desire.  Men 
differ  in  their  way  of  doing  so,  from  diversity  of  passion  and 
their  different  degrees  of  knowledge.  One  thing  he  notes  as 
common  to  all,  a  restless  and  perpetual  desire  of  posver  after 
power,  because  the  present  power  of  living  well  depends  on 
the  acquisition  of  more.  Competition  inclines  to  conten- 
tion and  war.  The  desire  of  ease,  on  the  other  hand,  and 
fear  of  death  or  wounds,  dispose  to  civil  obedience.  So  also 
does  desire  of  knowledge,  implying,  as  it  does,  desire  of  leisure. 
Desire  of  praise  and  desire  of  fame  after  death  dispose  to 
laudable  actions ;  in  such  fame,  there  is  a  present  delight 
from  foresight  of  it,  and  of  benefit  redounding  to  posterity; 
for  pleasure  to  the  sense  is  also  pleasure  in  the  imagination. 
Unrequitable  benefits  from  an  equal  engender  secret  hatred, 
but  from  a  superior,  love  ;  the  cheerfal  acceptation,  called  grat- 
iiude,  requiting  the  giver  with  honour.  Requitable  benefits, 
even   from  equals  or  inferiors,    dispose   to    love ;    for    hence 


134  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 

arises  emnlatioii  in  benefiting — '  the  most  noble  and  profitable 
contention  possible,  wherein  the  victor  'is  pleased  with  his 
victory,  and  the  other  revenged  by  confessing  it.'  He  passes 
under  review  other  dispositions,  such  as  fear  of  oppression, 
vain-glory,  ambition,  pusillanimity,  frugality,  &c.,  with  re- 
ference to  the  course  of  conduct  they  prompt  to.  Then  he 
comes  to  a  favourite  subject,  the  mistaken  courses  whereinto 
men  fall  that  are  ignorant  of  natural  causes  and  the  proper 
signification  of  words.  The  efiect  of  ignorance  of  the  causes 
of  right,  equity,  law,  and  justice,  is  to  make  custom  and 
example  the  rule  of  actions,  as  with  children,  or  to  induce 
the  setting  of  custom  against  reason,  and  reason  against 
custom,  whereby  the  doctrine  of  right  and  wrong  is  per- 
petually disputed,  both  by  the  pen,  and  by  the  sword.  Again, 
taking  up  ignorance  of  the  laws  of  nature,  he  is  led  on  to  the 
subject  of  natural  Religion,  and  devotes  also  the  whole  of 
Chapter  XII.  to  Religion  and  kindred  topics. 

In  Chapter  XIII.,  he  deals  with  the  natural  condition  of 
Mankind,  as  concerning  their  Felicity  and  Misery.  All  men, 
he  says,  are  by  nature  equal.  Dilferences  there  are  in  the 
faculties  of  body  and  mind,  but,  when  all  is  taken  together, 
not  great  enough  to  establish  a  steady  superiority  of  one  over 
another.  Besides  even  more  than  in  strength,  men  are  equal 
in  prudence,  which  is  but  experience  that  comes  to  all.  People 
indeed  generally  believe  that  others  are  not  so  wise  as  them- 
selves, but  *  there  is  not  ordinarily  a  greater  sign  of  equal 
distribution  of  anything  than  that  every  person  is  contented 
with  his  share.' 

Of  this  equality  of  ability,  the  consequence  is  that  two 
men  desiring  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  same  thing, 
whether  for  their  own  conservation  or  for  delectation,  will 
become  enemies  and  seek  to  destroy  each  other.  In  such  a 
case,  it  will  be  natural  for  any  man  to  seek  to  secure  himself 
by  anticipating  others  in  the  use  of  force  or  wiles  ;  and,  because 
some  will  not  be  content  with  merely  securing  themselves, 
others,  who  would  be  content,  will  be  driven  to  take  the  offen- 
sive for  mere  self-conservation.  Moreover,  men  will  be  dis- 
pleased at  being  valued  by  others  less  highly  than  by  them- 
selves, and  will  use  force  to  extort  respect. 

Thus,  he  finds  three  principal  causes  of  quarrel  in  the 
nature  of  man — comjpetitwn ,  diffidence  (distrust),  and  glory, 
making  men  invade  for  gain,  for  safety,  and  for  reputation. 
Men  will  accordingly,  in  the  absence  of  any  power  to  keep 
them  in  awe,  be  in  a  coiisiani  state  of  war ;  by  which  is  meant, 


MISERIES    OF   THE    STA.TE    OF   NATURE.  135 

not  actnal  fighting,  but  the  known  disposition  thereto,  and 
no  assurance  to  the  contrary. 

He  proceeds  to  draw  a  very  dismal  picture  of  the  results 
of  this  state  of  enmity  of  man  against  man — no  industry, 
no  agriculture,  no  arts,  no  society,  and  so  forth,  but  only 
fear  and  danger  of  violent  death,  and  life  solitary,  poor, 
nasty,  brutish,  and  short.  To  those  that  doubt  the  truth  of 
such  an  '  inference  made  from  the  passions,'  and  desire  the 
confirmation  of  experience,  he  cites  the  wearing  of  arms  and 
locking  of  doors,  &c.,  as  actions  that  accuse  mankind  as  much 
as  any  words  of  his.  Besides,  it  is  not  really  to  accuse  man  s 
nature ;  for  the  desires  and  passions  are  in  themselves  no  sin, 
nor  the  actions  proceeding  from  them,  until  a  law  is  made 
agaiust  them.  He  seeks  further  evidence  of  an  original  con- 
dition of  war,  in  the  actual  state  of  American  savages,  with 
no  government  at  all,  but  only  a  concord  of  small  families, 
depending  on  natural  lust ;  also  in  the  known  horrors  of  a 
civil  war,  when  there  is  no  common  power  to  fear ;  and, 
finally,  in  the  constant  hostile  attitude  of  different  governments. 

In  the  state  of  natural  war,  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong, 
justice  and  injustice,  have  no  place,  there  being  no  law  ;  and 
there  is  no  law,  because  there  is  no  common  power.  Force 
and  fraud  are  in  war  the  two  cardinal  virtues.  Justice  is  no 
faculty  of  body  and  mind  like  sense  and  passion,  but  only  a 
quality  relating  to  men  in  society.  Then  adding  a  last  touch 
to  the  description  of  the  state  of  nature, — by  saying  of  pro- 
perty, that  '  only  that  is  every  man's  that  he  can  get,  and  for  so 
long  as  he  can  keep  it,' — he  opens  up,  at  the  close  of  the 
chapter,  a  new  prospect  by  allowing  a  possibility  to  come  out 
of  so  evil  a  condition.  The  possibility  consists  partly  in 
the  passions  that  incline  to  peace — viz.,  fear  of  death,  desire 
of  things  necessary  to  commodious  living,  and  hope  by  in- 
dustry to  obtain  them ;  partly  in  reason,  which  suggests  con- 
venient articles  of  peace  and  agreement,  otherwise  called  the 
Laws  of  Nature. 

Tbe  first  and  second  Natural  Laws,  and  the  subject  of 
contracts,  take  up  Chap.  XIV.  First  comes  a  definition  of 
Jus  Natural e  or  Right  of  Nature — the  liberty  each  man  has 
of  using  his  own  power,  as  he  will  himself,  for  the  preser^^a- 
tion  of  his  own  nature  or  life.  Liberty  properly  means  the 
ab.^ence  of  external  impediments  ;  now  a  man  maj"  externally  be 
hindered  from  doing  all  he  would,  but  not  from  using  what 
power  is  left  him,  according  to  his  best  reason  and  judgment. 
A  Law   of  Nature,   lex  naturalir,  is  defined,  a  general  rule. 


136  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 

found  out  by  reason,  forbidding  a  man  to  do  what  directly  oi 
indirectly  is  destructive  of  his  life,  or  to  omit  what  he  thinks 
may  best  preserve  it.  Right  and  Law,  tliough  generally  con- 
founded, are  exactly  opposed,  Right  being  liberty,  and  Law 
obligation. 

In  the  natural  state  of  war,  every  man,  being  governed 
by  his  own  reason,  has  a  right  to  everything,  even  to 
another's  body.  But  because  thus  no  man's  life  is  secure,  he 
finds  the  First  and  fundamental  law  of  nature,  or  general  rule 
of  reason,  to  be  to  seek  i?eace  and  follotv  it,  if  possible:  fail- 
ing which,  we  may  defend  ourselves  by  all  the  means  we 
can.  Here  the  law  being  '  to  endeavour  peace,'  from  this  follows 
the  Second  law,  that  a  man  be  willing,  when  others  are  so  too, 
as  far  forth  as  for  peace  and  self-defence  he  shall  think  it 
necessary,  to  lay  doivn  this  right  to  all  things ;  and  be  con- 
tented with  so  much  liberty  against  other  men  as  he  would 
allow  other  men  against  himself.  This  is  the  same  as  the 
Gospel  precept,  Do  to  others,  &c. 

Laying  down  one's  right  to  anything  is  divesting  one's 
self  of  the  liberty  of  hindering  another  in  the  exercise  of  his 
own  original  right  to  the  same.  The  right  is  renounced^ 
when  a  man  cares  not  for  whose  benefit ;  transferred,  when 
intended  to  benefit  some  certain  person  or  persons.  In  either 
case  the  man  is  obliged  or  hound  not  to  hinder  those,  in  whose 
favour  the  right  is  abandoned,  from  the  benefit  of  it ;  it  is  his 
duty  not  to  make  void  his  own  voluntary  act,  and  if  he  does, 
it  is  injustice  or  injury,  because  he  acts  now  sme  Jure.  Such 
conduct  Hobbes  likens  to  an  intellectual  absurdity  or  self- 
contradiction.  Voluntary  signs  to  be  employed  in  abandon- 
ing a  right,  are  words  and  actions,  separately  or  together  ; 
but  in  all  bonds,  the  strength  comes  not  from  their  own 
nature,  but  from  the  fear  of  evil  resulting  from  their  rupture. 

He  concludes  that  not  all  rights  are  alienable,  for  the 
reason  that  the  abandonment,  being  a  voluntary  act,  must 
have  for  its  object  some  good  to  ihe  person  that  abandons  his 
right.  A  man,  for  instance,  cannot  lay  down  the  right  to 
defend  his  life ;  to  use  words  or  other  signs  for  that  purpose, 
would  be  to  despoil  himself  of  the  end — security  of  life  and 
person — for  which  those  signs  were  intended. 

Co7itract  is  the  mutual  transferring  of  right,  and  with  this 
idea  he  connects  a  great  deal.  First,  he  distinguishes  trans- 
ference of  right  to  a  thing,  and  transference  of  the  thing 
itself.  A  contract  fulfilled  by  one  party,  but  loft  on  trust  to 
be  fulfilled  by  the  other,  is  called  the  Covenant  of  this  other, 


CONTRACT. — MERIT.  137 

(a  distinction  he  afterwards  dro])s),  and  leaves  room  for  the 
keeping  or  violation  of  faith.  To  contract  he  opposes  gijX 
free-gift,  or  grace,  where  there  is  do  mutual  transference  of 
right,  but  one  party  transfers  in  the  hope  of  gaiiiing  friend- 
ship or  service  from  another,  or  the  reputation  of  charity  and 
niagnaniraity,  or  deliverance  from  the  merited  pain  of  com- 
passion, or  reward  in  heaven. 

There  follow  remarks  on  signs  of  contract,  as  either  ex- 
press or  by  inference,  and  a  distinction  between  free-gift  as 
made  by  words  of  the  present  or  past,  and  contract  as  made 
by  words  past,  present,  or  future ;  wherefore,  in  contracts  like 
buying  and  selling,  a  promise  amounts  to  a  covenant,  and  is 
obligatory. 

The  idea  of  Merit  is  thus  explained.  Of  two  contracting 
parties,  the  one  that  has  first  performed  merits  what  he  is  to 
receive  by  the  other's  performance,  or  has  it  as  clue.  Even 
the  person  that  wins  a  prize,  offered  by  free-gift  to  m.any, 
merits  it.  But,  whereas,  in  contract,  I  merit  by  virtue  of  my 
own  power  and  the  other  contractor's  need,  in  the  case  of  the 
gift,  I  merit  only  by  the  benignity  of  the  giver,  and  to  the 
extent  that,  when  he  has  given  it,  it  shall  be  mine  rather  than 
another's.  This  distinction  he  believes  to  coincide  with  the 
scholastic  separation  of  meritum  congrui  and  rneritum  condigni. 

He  adds  many  more  particulars  in  regard  to  covenants 
made  on  mutual  trust.  They  are  void  in  the  state  of  nature, 
upon  any  reasonable  suspicion ;  but  when  there  is  a  common 
power  to  compel  observance,  and  thus  no  more  room  for  fear, 
they  are  valid.  Even  when  fear  makes  them  invalid  it  must 
have  arisen  after  they  were  made,  else  it  should  have  kept 
them  from  being  made.  Transference  of  a  right  implies 
transference,  as  far  as  may  be,  of  the  means  to  its  enjoyment. 
With  beasts  there  is  no  covenant,  because  no  proper  mutual 
understanding.  With  God  also  none,  except  through  special 
revelation  or  with  his  lieutenant  in  his  name.  Anything 
vowed  contrary  to  the  law  of  nature  is  vowed  in  vain  ;  if  the 
thing  vowed  is  commanded  by  the  law  of  nature,  the  law, 
not  the  vow,  binds.  Covenants  are  of  things  possible  and 
future.  Men  are  freed  from  them  by  performance,  or  for- 
giveness, which  is  restitution  of  liberty.  tie  pronounces 
covenants  extorted  by  fear  to  be  binding  alike  in  the  state  of 
mere  nature  and  in  commonwealths,  if  once  entered  into. 
A  former  covenant  makes  void  a  later.  Any  covenant  not 
to  defend  one's  self  from  force  by  force  is  alwaj^s  void ; 
as  said  above,  there  is  no  transference  possible  of  right  to 


138  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— HOBBES. 

defend  one's  self  from  death,  wounds,  iraprisonment,  &c.  So 
no  man  is  obliged  to  accuse  himself,  or  generally  to  give  tes- 
timony where  from  the  nature  of  the  case  it  may  be  presumed 
to  be  corrupted.  Accusation  upon  torture  is  not  to  be  reputed 
as  testimony.  At  the  close  he  remarks  upon  oaths.  He  finds 
in  human  nature  two  imaginable  helps  to  strengthen  the  force 
of  words,  otherwise  too  weak  to  insure  tbe  performance  of 
covenants.  One  of  these — pride  in  appearing  not  to  need  to 
break  one's  word,  he  supposes  too  rare  to  be  presumed  upon. 
The  other,  fear,  has  reference  either  to  power  of  spirits  invisi- 
ble, or  of  men.  In  the  state  of  nature,  it  is  the  first  kind  of 
fear — a  man's  religion — that  keeps  him  to  his  promises.  An 
oath  is  therefore  swearing  to  perform  by  the  God  a  man  fears. 
But  to  the  obligation  itself  it  adds  nothing. 

Of  the  other  Laws  of  Nature,  treated  in  Chap.  XV.,  the 
third,  ihat  men  perforin  their  covenants  made,  opens  up  the 
discussion  of  Justice.  Till  rights  have  been  transferred  and 
covenants  made  there  is  no  justice  or  injustice  ;  injustice  is  no 
other  than  the  non-performance  of  covenants.  Further,  justice 
(and  also  property)  begins  only  where  a  regular  coercive  power 
is  constituted,  because  otherwise  there  is  cause  for  fear,  and 
fear,  as  has  been  seen,  makes  covenants  invalid.  Even  the 
scholastic  definition  of  justice  recognizes  as  much  ;  for  there 
can  be  no  constant  will  of  giving  to  every  man  his  own,  when, 
as  in  the  state  of  nature,  there  is  no  own.  He  argues  at 
length  against  the  idea  that  justice,  i.e.,  the  keeping  of  cove- 
nants, is  contrary  to  reason  ;  repelling  three  different  argu- 
ments. (1)  He  demonstrates  that  it  cannot  be  reasonable  to 
break  or  keep  covenants  according  to  benefit  supposed  to  be 
gained  in  each  case,  because  this  would  be  a  subversion  of  tbe 
principles  whereon  society  is  founded,  and  must  end  by  de- 
priving the  individual  of  its  benefits,  whereby  he  would  be  left 
perfectly  helpless.  (2)  He  considers  it  frivolous  to  talk  of 
securing  the  happiness  of  heaven  by  any  kind  of  injustice, 
when  there  is  but  one  possible  way  of  attaining  it,  viz.,  the 
keeping  of  covenants.  (3)  He  warns  men  (he  means  his  con- 
temporaries) against  resorting  to  the  mode  of  injustice  known 
as  rebellion  to  gain  sovereignty,  from  the  hopelessness  of 
gaining  it  and  the  uncertainty  of  keeping  it.  Hence  he  con- 
cludes that  justice  is  a  rule  of  reason,  the  keeping  of  cove- 
nants being  the  surest  way  to  preserve  our  life,  and  therefore 
a  law  of  nature.  He  rejects  the  notion  that  laws  of  nature 
are  to  be  supposed  conducive,  not  to  the  preservation  of  life 
on  earth,  but  to  the  attainment  of  eternal  felicity  ;  whereto 


JUSTICE.  139 

each  breach  of  covenant  as  rebellion  may  sometimes  be  supposed 
a  means.  For  that,  the  knowledge  of  the  future  life  is  too  un- 
certain. Finally,  he  consistently  holds  that  faith  is  to  be  kept 
with  heretics  and  with  all  that  it  has  once  been  pledged  to. 

He  goes  on  to  distinguish  between  justice  of  men  or 
manners,  and  justice  of  actions  ;  whereby  in  the  one  case  men 
are  just  or  righteous,  and  in  the  other,  guiltless.  After  making 
the  common  observation  that  single  inconsistent  acts  do  not 
destroy  a  character  for  justice  or  injustice,  he  has  this  :  '  That 
which  gives  to  human  actions  the  relish  of  justice,  is  a  certain 
nobleness  or  gallantness  of  courage  rarely  found,  by  which  a 
man  scorns  to  be  beholden  for  the  contentment  of  his  life  to 
fraud,  or  breach  of  promise.'  Then  he  shows  the  difference 
between  injustice,  injury,  and  damage  ;  asserts  that  nothing 
done  to  a  man  with  his  consent  can  be  injury  ;  and,  rejecting 
the  common  mode  of  distinguishing  between  commutafive  and 
distributive  justice,  calls  the  first  the  justice  of  a  con- 
tractor, and  the  other  an  improper  name  for  just  distribution, 
or  the  justice  of  an  arbitrator,  i.e.,  the  act  of  defining  what  is 
just — equivalent  to  equity,  which  is  itself  a  law  of  nature. 

The  rest  of  the  laws  follow  in  swift  succession.  The  4th 
recommends  Gratitude,  which  depends  on  antecedent  g-raee 
instead  of  covenant.  Free-gift  being  voluntary,  i.e.,  done 
with  intention  of  good  to  one's  self,  there  will  be  an  end  to 
benevolence  and  mutual  help,  unless  gratitude  is  given  as 
compensation. 

The  5th  enjoins  Complaisance ;  a  disposition  in  men  not 
to  seek  superfluities  that  to  others  are  necessaries.  Such 
men  are  sociable. 

The  6th  enjoins  Parcloji  upon  repentance,  with  a  view 
(like  the  last)  to  peace. 

The  7th  enjoins  that  punishment  is  to  be  only  for  cor- 
rection of  the  offender  and  direction  of  others  ;  i.e.,  for  profit 
and  example,  not  for  '  glorying  in  the  hurt  of  another,  tend- 
ing to  no  end.'     Against  Grueltij. 

The  8th  is  against  Gnntumelij,  as  provocative  of  dispeace. 

The  9th  is  against  Pride,  and  enjoins  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  equality  of  all  men  by  nature.  He  is  here  very  sarcastic 
against  Aristotle,  and  asserts,  in  opposition  to  him,  that  all 
inequality  of  men  arises  from  consent. 

The  10th  is,  in  like  manner,  against  Arrogance,  and  in 
favour  of  Modesty.  Men,  in  entering  into  peace,  are  to  resei've 
no  rights  but  such  as  they  are  willing  shall  be  reserved  by 
others. 


14:0  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— HOBBES. 

The  11th  enjoins  Equitij  ;  the  disposition,  in  a  man  trusted 
to  judge,  to  distribute  equally  to  each  man  what  in  reason 
belongs  to  him.  Partiality  '  deters  men  from  the  use  of  judges 
and  arbitrators,'  and  is  a  cause  of  war. 

The  12th  enjoins  the  common,  or  the  proportionable,  use 
of  things  that  cannot  be  distributed. 

The  18th  enjoins  the  resort  to  lot,  when  separate  or  com- 
mon enjoyment  is  not  possible ;   the   14th  provides  also  for 
natural  lot,  meaning  first  possession  or  primogeniture. 
The  15th  demands  safe  conduct  for  mediators. 
The  16th  requires  that  parties  at  controversy  shall  submit 
their  right  to  arbitration. 

The  17th  forbids  a  man  to  be  his  own  judge;  the  18th, 
any  interested  person  to  be  judge. 

The  19th  requires  a  resort  to  witnesses  in  a  matter  of  fact, 
as  between  two  contending  parties. 

This  list  of  the  laws  of  nature  is  only  slightly  varied  in  the 
other  works.  He  enumerates  none  but  those  that  concern 
the  doctrine  of  Civil  Society,  passing  over  things  like  Intem- 
perance, that  are  also  forbidden  by  the  law  of  nature  because 
destructive  of  particular  men.  All  the  laws  are  summed  up 
in  the  one  expression :  Do  not  that  to  another,  which  thou 
wouldest  not  have  done  to  thyself. 

The  laws  of  nature  he  regards  as  always  binding  in  foro 
interno,  to  the  extent  of  its  being  desired  they  should  take 
place;  but  in  foro  externo,  only  when  there  is  security.  As 
binding  in  foro  interno,  they  can  be  broken  even  by  an  act 
according  mth  them,  if  the  purpose  of  it  was  against  them. 
They  are  immutable  and  eternal ;  '  injustice,  ingratitude,  &c,, 
can  never  be  made  lawful,'  for  war  cannot  preserve  life,  nor 
peace  destroy  it.  Their  fulfilment  is  easy,  as  requiring  only 
an  unfeigned  and  constant  endeavour. 

Of  these  laws  the  science  is  true  moral  philosophy,  i.e.,  the 
science  of  good  and  evil  in  the  society  of  mankind.  Good 
and  evil  vary  much  from  man  to  man,  and  even  in  the  same 
man ;  but  while  private  appetite  is  the  measure  of  good  and 
evil  in  the  condition  of  nature,  all  allow  that  peace  is  good, 
and  that  justice,  gratitude,  &c.,  as  the  way  or  means  to  peace, 
are  also  good,  that  is  to  say,  moraZ  virtues.  The  true  moral 
philosophy,  in  regarding  them  as  laws  of  nature,  places  their 
goodness  in  their  being  the  means  of  peaceable,  comfortable, 
and  sociable  living ;  not,  as  is  commonly  done,  in  a  mediocrity 
of  passions,  '  as  if  not  the  cause,  but  the  degree  of  daring, 
made  fortitude.' 


GENERAL   SUMMARY.  141 

His  last  remark  is.  that  these  dictates  of  reason  are 
improperly  called  laws,  because  '  law,  properly,  is  the  word 
of  him  that  by  right  hath  command  over  others.'  But  when 
considered  not  as  mere  conclusions  or  theorems  concerning 
the  means  of  conservation  and  defence,  but  as  delivered  in 
the  word  of  God,  that  by  right  commands  all,  then  they  are 
properly  called  laws. 

Chapter  XVI.,  closing  the  whole  first  part  of  the  Leviathan, 
is  of  Persons,  Authors,  and  Things  Personated.  The  defini- 
tions and  distinctions  contained  in  it  add  nothing  of  direct 
ethical  importance  to  the  foregoing,  though  needed  for  the 
discussion  of  '  Commonwealth,'  to  which  he  passes.  The 
chief  points  under  this  second  great  head  are  taken  into  the 
summary. 

The  views  of  Hobbes  can  be  only  inadequately  summarized. 

I. — The  Standard,  to  men  living  in  society,  is  the  Law  of 
the  State.  This  is  Self-interest  or  individual  Utility,  masked 
as  regard  for  Established  Order ;  for,  as  he  holds,  under  any 
kind  of  government  there  is  more  Security  and  Commodity  of 
life  than  in  the  State  of  Nature.  In  the  Natural  Condition, 
Self-interest,  of  course,  is  the  Standard ;  but  not  without  re- 
sponsibility to  God,  in  case  it  is  not  sought,  as  far  as  other 
men  will  allow,  by  the  practice  of  the  dictates  of  Reason  or 
laws  of  Nature. 

II. — His  Psychology  of  Ethics  is  to  be  studied  in  the  detail. 
Whether  in  the  natural  or  in  the  social  state,  the  Moral  Faculty, 
to  correspond  with  the  Standard,  is  the  general  power  of  Reason, 
comprehending  the  aims  of  the  Individual  or  Society,  and 
attending  to  the  laws  of  Nature  or  the  laws  of  the  State,  in 
the  one  case  or  in  the  other  respectively. 

On  the  question  of  the  Will,  his  views  have  been  given  at 
length. 

Disinterested  Sentiment  is,  in  origin,  self- regarding ;  for, 
pitying  others,  we  imagine  the  like  calamity  befalling  our- 
selves. In  one  place,  he  seems  to  say,  that  the  Sentiment  of 
Power  is  also  involved.  It  is  the  great  defect  of  his  system 
that  he  takes  so  little  account  of  the  Social  afiections,  whether 
natural  or  acquired. 

III. — His  Theory  of  Happiness,  or  the  Summum  Bonum. 
would  follow  from  his  analysis  of  the  Feelings  and  Will.  But 
Feliciny  being  a  continual  pi'ogress  in  desire,  and  consisting 
less  in  present  enjoyment  than  in  assuring  the  way  of  future 
desire,  the  chief  element  in  it  is  the  Sense  of  Power. 

IV. — A  Moral  Code  is  minutely  detailed  under  the  name  of 


142  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — CUMBEELA.ND. 

Laws  of  Nature,  in  force  in  the  Natural  State  under  Divine 
Sanction.  It  incalcates  all  the  common  virtues,  and  makes 
little  or  no  departure  from  the  usually  received  maxims. 

V. — The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Politics  is  the  closest  imagin- 
able. Not  even  Society,  as  commonly  understood,  but  only 
the  established  civil  authority,  is  the  source  of  rules  of  con- 
duct. In  the  civil  (which  to  Hobbes  is  the  only  meaning  of 
the  social)  state,  the  laws  of  nature  are  superseded,  b}--  being 
supposed  taken  np  into,  the  laws  of  the  Sovereign  Power. 

VI. — As  regards  Religion,  he  affirms  the  coincidence  of  his 
reasoned  deduction  of  the  laws  of  Nature  with  the  precepts  of 
Revelation.  He  makes  a  mild  use  of  the  sanctions  of  a  Future 
Life  to  enforce  the  laws  of  Nature,  and  to  give  additional 
support  to  the  commands  of  the  sovereign  that  take  the  place 
of  these  in  the  social  state. 

Among  the  numberless  replies,  called  forth  by  the  bold 
speculations  of  Hobbes,  were  some  works  of  independent 
ethical  importance  ;  in  particular,  the  treatises  of  Cumberland, 
Cttdworth,  and  Clarke.  Cumberland  stands  by  himself;  Cud- 
worth  and  Clarke,  agreeing  in  some  respects,  are  commonly- 
called  the  Batio7ial  moralists,  along  with  Wollaston  and  Price 
(who  fall  to  be  noticed  later). 

RICHARD   CUMBERLAND.         [1632-1718.] 

Cumberland's  Latin  work,  De  Legibufi  Naturce  disquisitio 
philosophica  contra  Hohhium  instituta,  appeared  in  1672.  The 
book  is  important  as  a  distinctly  philosophical  disquisition, 
but  its  extraordinarily  discursive  character  renders  impossible 
anything  like  analysis.  His  chief  points  will  be  presented  in 
a  fuller  summary  than  usual. 

I. — The  SxANDAFiD  of  Moral  Good  is  given  in  the  laws  of 
Nature,  which  may  all  be  summed  up  in  one  great  Law — 
Benevolence  to  all  rational  agents^  or  the  endeavour  to  the 
utmost  of  our  power  to  promote  the  common  good  of  all.  His 
theory  is  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  the  Greatest  Happi- 
ness principle  ;  unless  it  might  be  represented  as  putting  for- 
ward still  more  prominently  the  search  for  Individual  Happi- 
ness, with  a  fixed  assumption  that  this  is  best  secured  through 
the  promotion  of  the  general  good.  No  action,  he  declares, 
can  be  called  '  morally  good  that  does  not  in  its  own  nature 
contribute  somewhat  to  the  happiness  of  men.'  The  speciality 
of  his  view  is  his  professing  not  to  make  an  induction  as 
regards  the  character  of  actions  from  the  observation  of  their 
effects,  but  to  deduce  the  propriety  of  (benevolent)  actions 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  ETHICS.  14.^ 

from  the  consideration  of  the  character  and  position  of  rational 
agents  in  nature.  Rules  of  conduct,  all  directed  to  the  pro- 
motion of  the  Happiness  of  rational  agents,  may  thus  be  found 
in  the  form  of  propositions  impressed  upon  the  mind  by  the 
Nature  of  Things ;  and  these  are  then  interpreted  to  be  laws 
of  Nature  (summed  up  in  the  one  great  Law),  promulgated 
by  God  with  the  natural  effects  of  actious  as  Sanctions  of 
Reward  and  Punishment  to  enforce  them. 

II. — His  Psychology  of  Ethics  may  be  reduced  to  the  fol- 
lowing heads. 

1.  The  Faculty  is  the  Reason,  apprehending  the  exact 
Nature  of  Things,  and  detenniuing  accordingly  the  modes  of 
action  that  are  best  suited  to  promote  the  happiness  of 
rational  agents. 

2.  Of  the  Faculty,  under  the  name  of  Cunscience,  he  gives 
this  description  :  '  The  mind  is  conscious  to  itself  of  all  its  own 
actions,  and  both  can,  and  often  does,  observe  what  counsels  pro- 
duced them;  it  naturally  sits  a  judge  upon  its  own  actions,  and 
thence  procures  to  itself  either  tranquillity  and  joy,  or  anxiety 
and  sorrow.'  The  principal  design  of  his  whole  book  is  to 
show  '  how  this  power  of  the  mind,  either  by  itself,  or  excited 
by  external  objects,  forms  certain  universal  practical  proposi- 
tions, which  give  us  a  more  distinct  idea  of  the  happiness  of 
mankind,  and  pronounces  by  what  actions  of  ours,  in  all 
variety  of  circumstances,  that  happiness  may  most  effect- 
ually be  obtained.'  [Conscience  is  thus  only  Reason,  or  the 
knowing  faculty  in  general,  as  specially  concerned  about 
actions  in  their  effect  upon  happiness;  it  rarely  takes  the 
place  of  the  more  general  term.] 

3.  He  expressly  leaves  aside  the  supposition  that  we  have 
innate  ideas  of  the  laws  of  Nature  whereby  conduct  is  to  be 
guided,  or  of  the  matters  that  they  are  conversant  about. 
He  has  not,  he  says,  been  so  happy  as  to  learn  the  laws  of 
Nature  by  so  short  a  way,  and  thinks  it  ill-advised  to  build 
the  doctrine  of  natural  religion  and  morality  upon  a  hypothesis 
that  has  been  rejected  by  the  generality  of  philosophers,  as 
well  heathen  as  Christian,  and  can  never  be  proved  ag:ainst 
the  Epicureans,  with  whom  lies  his  chief  controversy.  Yet  he 
declines  to  oppose  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  because  it  looks 
with  a  friendly  eye  upon  piety  and  morality  ;  and  perhaps  it 
may  be  the  case,  that  such  ideas  are  both  born  with  ns  and 
afterwards  impressed  upon  us  from  without. 

4.  Will,  he  defines  as  'the  consent  of  the  mind  with  the 
judgment  of  the  understanding,  concerning  things  agreeiug 


144  ETHICM.   SYSTEMS — CUMBEKLAND. 

among  tliem selves.'  Althougli,  therefore,  he  supposes  that 
nothing  but  Good  and  Evil  can  determine  the  will,  and  that 
the  will  is  even  neces.^arlly  determined  to  seek  the  one  and 
flee  the  other,  he  escapes  the  conclusion  that  the  will  is  moved 
only  by  private  good,  by  accepting  the  implication  of  private 
with  common  good  as  the  fixed  judgment  of  the  understand- 
ing or  right  reason. 

5.  He  argues  against  the  resolution  of  all  Benevolence 
into  self-seeking,  and  thus  claims  for  man  a  principle  of  dis- 
interested action.  But  what  he  is  far  more  concerned  to  prove 
is,  that  benevolence  of  all  to  all  accords  best  with  the  whole 
frame  of  nature,  stands  forth  with  perfect  evidence,  upon  a 
rational  apprehension  of  the  universe,  as  the  great  Law  of 
Nature,  and  is  the  most  effectual  means  of  promoting  tlie 
bappiness  of  individuals,  viz.,  through  the  happiness  of  all. 

III. —  Happiness  is  given  as  connected  with  the  most  full 
and  constant  exercise  of  all  our  powers,  about  the  best  and 
greatest  objects  and  effects  that  are  adequate  and  proportional 
to  them  ;  as  consisting  in  the  enlargement  or  perfection  of  the 
faculties  of  any  one  thing  or  several.  Here,  and  in  his  protest 
against  Hobbes's  taking  affection  and  desire,  instead  of 
Reason,  as  the  measure  of  the  goodness  of  things,  may  be 
seen  in  what  way  he  passes  from  the  conception  of  Individual, 
to  the  notion  of  Common  Good,  as  the  end  of  action.  Reason 
affirms  the  common  good  to  be  more  essentially  connected 
with  the  perfection  of  man  than  any  pursuit  of  private  advan- 
tage. Still  there  is  no  disposition  in  him  to  sacrifice  private 
to  the  common  good:  he  declares  that  no  man  is  called  on  to 
promote  the  common  good  beyond  his  ability,  and  attaches  no 
meaning  to  the  general  good  beyond  the  special  good  oiall  the 
particular  rational  agents  in  their  respective  places,  from  God 
(to  whom  he  ventures  to  ascribe  a  Tranquillity,  Joy,  or  Compla- 
cency) downwards.  The  happiness  of  men  he  considers  as  In- 
ternal, arising  immediately  from  the  vigorous  exercise  of  the 
faculties  about  their  proper  and  noblest  objects ;  and  External, 
the  mediate  advantages  procurable  from  God  and  men  by  a 
course  of  benevolent  action. 

IV. —  His  Moral  Code  is  arrived  at  by  a  somewhat  elabo- 
rate deduction  from  the  great  Law  of  Nature  enjoining  Benevo- 
lence or  Promotion  of  the  Common  Good  of  all  rational  beings. 

This  Common  Good  comprehends  the  Honour  of  God,  and 
the  Good  or  Happiness  of  Men,  as  Nations,  Families,  and 
Individuals. 

The  actions  that  promote  this  Common  Good,  are  Acts 


MOKAL   CODE.  145 

either  of  tlie  tinderstandiug,  or  of  the  will  and  affections,  or  of 
the  body  as  determined  by  the  will.  From  this  he  finds  that 
Prudence  (includino:  Constancy  of  Mind  and  Moderation)  is 
enjoined  in  the  Understanding,  and,  in  the  Will,  Universal 
Benevolence  (making,  with  Prndence,  Equifj/),  Government  of 
the  Passions,  and  the  Special  Laws  of  Nature — Innocence,  Self- 
denial,  Gratitude,  ^^c. 

This  he  gets  from  the  consideration  of  what  is  contained 
in  the  general  Law  of  Nature.  But  the  obligation  to  the 
various  moral  virtues  does  not  appear,  until  he  has  shown  that 
the  Law  of  Nature,  for  procuring  the  Common  Happiness  of 
all,  suggests  a  natural  law  of  Univet  dal  Justice,  commanding  to 
make  and  preserve  a  division  of  Rights,  i.e.,  giving  to  particular 
persons  Property  or  Dominion  over  things  and  persons  neces- 
sary to  their  Happiness.  There  are  thus  Rights  of  God  (to 
Honour,  Glory,  &c.)  and  Rights  of  Men  (to  have  those  advan- 
tages continued  to  them  whereby  they  may  preserve  and  per- 
fect themselves,  and  be  useful  to  all  others). 

For  the  same  reason  that  Eights  of  particular  persons 
are  fixed  and  preserved,  viz.,  that  the  common  good  of  all 
should  be  promoted  by  every  one, — two  Obligations  are  laid 
upon  all. 

( 1 )  Of  Gevixg  :  We  are  to  contribute  to  others  such  a  share 
of  the  things  committed  to  our  trust,  as  may  not  destroy  the 
part  that  is  necessary  to  our  own  happiness.  Hence  are  obli- 
gatory the  virtues  {a)  in  regard  to  Gifts,  Liberality,  Generosity, 
Compassion,  &c.;  (b)  in  regard  to  Common  Conversation  or 
Intercourse,  Gravity  and  Courteousness,  Veracity,  Faith, 
Urbanity,  &o. 

(2)  Of  Receiving:  We  are  to  reserve  to  ourselves  such 
use  of  our  own,  as  may  be  most  advantageous  to,  or  at  least 
consistent  with,  the  good  of  others.  Hence  the  obligation  oi 
the  virtues  pertaining  to  the  various  branches  of  a  limited 
Self- Love,  {a)  with  regard  to  our  essential  parts,  viz., 
Mind  and  Body — Temperance  in  the  natural  desires  concerned 
in  the  preservation  of  the  individual  and  the  species  ;  (b)  with 
regard  to  goods  of  fortune — Modesty,  Humility,  and  Mag- 
nanimity. 

Y. — He  connects  Politics  with  Ethics,  by  finding,  in  the 
establishment  of  civil  government,  a  more  effectual  means  of 
promoting  the  common  happiness  according  to  the  Law  of 
Nature,  than  in  any  equal  division  of  things.  But  the  Law 
of  Nature,  he  declares,  being  before  the  civil  laws,  and  con- 
taining the  ground  of  their  obligation,  can  never  be  superseded 


146  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — CUDWOllTH. 

by  these.  Practically,  however,  the  difference  between  him 
and  Hobbes  comes  to  very  lifctle ;  he  recognizes  no  kind  of 
earthly  check  upon  the  action  of  the  civil  power. 

VI. — With  reference  to  Reh'gion,  he  professes  to  abstain 
entirely  from  theological  questions,  and  does  abstain  from 
mixing  up  the  doctrines  of  Revelation.  But  he  attaches  a 
distinctly  divine  authority  to  his  moral  rules,  and  supplements 
earthly  by  supernatural  sanctions. 

EALPH  CUDWORTH.        [1617-88.] 

Cudworth's  Treatise  concerning  Eternal  and  Immutable  Mo- 
rality, did  not  appear  until  1731,  more  than  forty  years  after 
his  death.  Having  in  a  former  work  ('Intellectual  system 
of  the  Universe')  contended  against  the  '  Atheistical  Fate  '  of 
Epicurus  and  others,  he  here  attacks  the  '  Theologick  Fate' 
(the  arbitrarily  omnipotent  Deity)  of  Hobbes,  charging  him 
with  reviving  exploded  opinions  of  Protagoras  and  the  ancient 
Greeks,  that  take  away  the  essential  and  eternal  discrimination 
of  moral  good  and  evil,  of  just  and  unjast. 

After  piling  up,  out  of  the  store  of  his  classical  and 
scholastic  erudition,  a  great  mass  of  testimony  regarding  all 
who  had  ever  founded  distinctions  of  Right  and  Wrong  upon 
mere  arbitrary  disposition,  whether  of  God  or  the  State  of  men 
in  general,  he  shadows  forth  his  own  view.  Moral  Good  and 
Evil,  Just  and  Unjust,  Honest  and  Dishonest  (if  they  be  not 
mere  names  without  any  signification,  or  names  for  nothing 
else  but  Willed  or  Commanded,  but  have  a  reality  in  respect  of 
the  persons  obliged  to  do  and  to  avoid  them),  cannot  possibly 
be  arbitrary  things,  made  by  Will  without  nature;  because 
it  is  universally  true  that  Things  are  what  they  are  not  by 
Will,  but  by  nature.  As  it  is  the  nature  of  a  triangle  to  have 
three  angles  equal  to  two  right  angles,  so  it  is  the  nature  of 
'good  things'  to  have  the  nature  of  goodness,  and  things  just 
tbe  nature  of  justice ;  and  Omnipotence  is  no  more  able  to 
make  a  thing  good  without  the  fixed  nature  of  goodness,  than 
to  make  a  triangular  body  without  the  properties  of  a  triangle, 
or  two  things  like  or  equal,  without  the  natures  of  Likeness 
and  Equality.  The  Will  of  God  is  the  supreme  efficient  cause 
of  all  things,  but  not  the  formal  cause  of  anything  besides 
itself.  Nor  is  this  to  be  understood  as  at  all  derogating  from 
God's  perfection;  to  make  natural  justice  and  right  indepen- 
dent of  his  will  is  merely  to  set  his  Wisdom,  which  is  a  rule 
or  measure,  above  his  Will,  which  is  something  indeterminate, 
but  essentially  regulable  and  measureable ;  and  if  it  be  the 


ETEUNAL  AND   IMMUTABLE  VERITIES.  147 

case  that  above  even  his  wisdom,  and  determining  it  in  tnrn, 
stands  his  Infinite  Goodness,  tlie  greatest  perrection  of  bis 
will  must  lie  in  its  being  thus  twive  determined. 

By  far  the  largest  part  of  Cudvvorth's  treatise  consists  of 
a  general  metaphysical  argument  to  establish  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  mind's  faculty  of  Knowledge,  with  reference  to 
Sense  and  Experience.  In  Sense,  according  to  the  doctrine 
of  the  old  'Atomical  philosophy'  (of  Democritus,  Protagoras, 
&c. — but  he  thinks  it  must  be  referred  back  to  Moses  himself !), 
he  sees  nothing  but  fancies  excited  in  us  by  local  motions  in 
the  organs,  taken  on  from  '  the  motion  of  particles  '  that  con- 
stitute '  the  whole  world.'  All  the  more,  therefore,  must  there 
exist  a  superior  power  of  Intellection  and  Knowledge  of  a 
different  nature  from  sense,  a  power  not  terminating  in  mere 
seeming  and  appearance  only,  but  in  the  reality  of  things,  and 
reaching  to  the  comprehension  of  what  really  and  abso- 
lutely is  ;  whose  objects  are  the  immutable  and  eternal  essences 
and  natures  of  things,  and  their  unchangeable  relations  to  one 
another.  These  Bationes  or  Verities  of  things  are  intelligible 
only  ;  are  all  comprehended  in  the  eternal  mind  or  intellect  of 
the  Deity,  and  from  Him  derived  to  our  '  particular  intellects.' 
They  are  neither  arbitrar}'-  nor  phantastical — neither  alterable 
by  Will  nor  changeable  by  Opinion. 

Such  eternal  and  immutable  Verities,  then,  the  moral  dis- 
tinctions of  Good  and  Evil  are,  in  the  pauses  of  the  general 
argument,  declared  to  be.  They,  '  as  they  must  have  some 
cet'tain  natures  which  are  the  actions  or  souls  of  men,'  are 
unalterable  by  Will  or  Opinion.  *  Modifications  of  Mind  and 
Intellect,'  they  are  as  much  more  real  and  substantial  things 
than  Hard,  Soft,  Hot,  and  Cold,  modifications  of  mere  sense- 
less matter — and  even  so,  on  the  principles  of  the  atomical 
philosophy,  dependent  on  the  soul  for  their  existence — as  Mind 
itself  stands  prior  in  the  order  of  nature  to  Matter.  In  the 
mind  they  are  as  'anticipations  of  morality'  springing  up,  not 
indeed  'from  certain  rules  or  proposiDions  arbitrarily  printed 
on  the  soul  as  on  a  book,'  but  from  some  more  inw^ard  and 
vital  Principle  in  intellectual  beings,  as  such  whereby  these 
have  within  themselves  a  natural  determination  to  do  some 
things  and  to  avoid  others. 

The  only  other  ethical  determinations  made  by  Cudworth 
may  thus  be  summarized: — Things  called  naturally  Good  and 
Due  are  such  as  the  intellectual  nature  obliges  to  immediately, 
absolutely,  and  perpetually,  and  upon  no  condition  of  any 
voluntary^ action   done   or   omitted   intervening;   things  posU 


148  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — CLARKE. 

tively  Good  and  Due  are  such  as  are  in  themselves  indifferent, 
but  the  intellectual  nature  oblio^es  to  them  accidentally  or 
liypothetically,  upon  condition,  in  the  case  of  a  command, 
of  some  voluntary  act  of  another  person  invested  with  lawful 
authority,  or  of  one's  self,  in  the  case  of  a  specific  promise. 
In  a  positive  command  (as  of  the  civil  ruler),  what  obliges  is 
only  the  intellectual  nature  of  him  that  is  commanded,  in  that 
he  recognizes  the  lawful  authority  of  him  that  commands,  and 
so  far  determines  and  modifies  his  ge^ioral  duty  of  obedience 
as  to  do  an  action  immaterial  in  itself  for  the  sake  of  the  for- 
mality of  yielding  obedience  to  lawfully  constituted  authority. 
So,  in  like  manner,  a  specific  promise,  in  itself  immaterial  and 
not  enjoined  by  natural  justice,  is  to  be  k,ept  for  the  sake  of 
the  formality  of  keeping  faith,  which  is  enjoined. 

Cudworth's  work,  in  which  these  are  nearly  all  the  ethical 
allusions,  gives  no  scope  for  a  summary  under  the  various 
topics. 

I. — Specially  excluding  any  such  External  Standard  of 
moral  Good  as  the  arbitrary  Will,  either  of  God  or  the  Sove- 
reign, he  views  it  as  a  simple  ultimate  natural  quality  of 
actions  or  dispositions,  as  included  among  the  verities  of 
things,  by  the  side  of  which  the  phenomena  of  Sense  are 
unreal. 

II. — The  general  Intellectual  FacuU^-  cognizes  the  moral 
verities,  vrhich  it  contains  within  itself  aiiu.  brings  rather  than 
finds. 

III. — He  does  not  touch  upon  Happiness ;  probably  he 
would  lean  to  asceticism.     He  sets  up  no  moral  code. 

IV. — Obligation  to  the  Positive  Civil  Laws  in  matters  in- 
different follows  from  the  intellectual  recognition  of  the  esta- 
blished relation  between  ruler  and  subject. 

V. — Morality  is  not  dependent  upon  the  Deity  in  any 
other  sense  than  the  whole  frame  of  things  is. 

SAMUEL  CLAEKE.         [1675-1729.] 

Clarke  put  together  his  two  series  of  Boyle  Lectures 
(preached  1704  and  1705)  as  'A  Discourse,  concerning  the 
Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  the  Obligations  of  Natural 
Religion  and  the  Truth  and  Certainty  of  the  Christian 
Revelation,'  in  answer  to  Hobbes,  Spinoza,  &c.  The  burden 
of  the  ethical  discussion  falls  under  the  head  of  the  Obligationa 
of  Natural  Religion,  in  the  second  series. 

He  enounces  this  all-comprehensive  proposition :  *  The 
same  necessary  and  eternal  different  Relations  that  different 


FITNESSES    AND   UNFITNESSES    OF   THINGS.  149 

Things  bear  one  to  another,  and  the  same  consequent  Fitness 
or  Unfitness  of  the  application  of  different  things  or  different 
relations  one  to  another,  wich  regard  to  which  the  will  of  God 
always  and  necessarily  does  determine  itself  to  choose  to  act 
only  what  is  agreeable  to  Justice,  Equity,  Goodness,  and 
Truth,  in  order  to  the  welfare  of  the  whole  universe — ought 
likewise  constantly  to  determine  the  Wills  of  all  sub  )rdinate 
rational  beings,  to  govern  all  their  actions  by  the  same  rules, 
for  the  good  of  the  public,  in  their  respective  stations.  That 
is,  these  eternal  and  necessary  differences  of  things  make  it 
fit  and  reasonable  for  creatures  so  to  act ;  they  cause  it  to  be 
their  duty,  or  lay  an  obligation  on  them  so  to  do  ;  even  sepa- 
rate from  the  consideration  of  these  Kules  being  the  positive 
Will  or  Command  of  God,  and  also  antecedent  to  any  respect 
or  regard,  expectation  or  apprehension  of  any  particular  pri- 
vate and  personal  Advantage  or  Disadvantage,  Reward  or 
Punishment,  either  present  or  future,  annexed  either  by 
natural  consequence,  or  by  positive  appointment,  to  the  prac- 
tising or  neglecting  of  these  rules.'  In  the  explication  of  this, 
nearly  his  whole  system  is  contained. 

His  first  concern  is  to  impress  the  fact  that  there  are 
necessary  and  eternal  differences  of  all  things,  and  implied  or 
consequent  relations  (proportions  or  disproportions)  existing 
amongst  them ;  and  to  bring  under  this  general  head  the 
special  case  of  differences  of  Persons  {e.g.,  God  and  Man,  Man 
and  Fellow-man),  for  the  sake  of  the  implication  that  to 
different  persons  there  belong  peculiar  Fitnesses  and  Unfit nesses 
of  circumstances ;  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  that  there 
arises  necessarily  amongst  them  a  suitableness  or  unsuitable- 
ness  of  certain  manners  of  Behaviour.  The  counter-proposi- 
tion that  he  contends  against  is,  that  the  relations  among 
persons  depend  upon  ijositive  constitution  of  some  kind,  instead 
of  being  founded  unchangeably  in  tlie  nature  and  reason  of 
things. 

Next  he  shows  how,  in  the  rational  or  intellectual  recogni- 
tion of  naturally  existent  relations  amongst  things  (he  always 
Tneans  persons  chiefly),  there  is  contained  an  obligation. 
When  God,  in  his  Omniscience  and  absolute  freedom  from 
error,  is  found  determining  his  Will  always  according  to  this 
eternal  reason  of  things,  it  is  very  unreasonable  and  blame- 
worthy in  the  intelligent  creatures  whom  he  has  made  so  far 
like  himself,  not  to  govern  their  actions  by  the  same  eternal 
rule  of  Rea'^on,  but  to  suffer  themselves  to  depart  from  it 
through  negligent  misunderstanding  or  wilful  passion.    Herein 


150  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS      CLARKE. 

lies  obligation :  a  man  ought  to  act  according  to  tlie  Law  of 
lieason,  because  he  can  as  little  refrain  from  assenting  to  the 
reasonableness  and  fitness  of  guiding  his  actions  by  it,  as  refuse 
bis  assent  to  a  geometrical  demonstration  when  he  under- 
stands the  terms.  The  original  obligation  of  all  is  the  eternal 
Ileason  of  Things ;  the  sanction  of  Rewards  and  Punishments 
(thongh  '  truly  the  most  effectual  means  of  keeping  creatures 
in  their  duty')  is  only  a  secondary  and  additional  obligation. 
Proof  of  his  position  he  finds  in  men's  judgment  of  their  own 
actions,  better  still  in  their  judgments  of  others'  actions,  besfc 
of  all  in  their  judgment  of  injuries  inflicted  on  themselves. 
Nor  does  any  objection  hold  from  the  ignorance  of  savages  in 
matters  of  morality  :  they  are  equally  ignorant  of  the  plainest 
mathematical  truths ;  the  need  of  instruction  does  not  take 
away  the  necessary  difference  of  moral  Good  and  Evil,  any 
more  than  it  takes  away  the  necessary  proportions  of  numbers. 

He,  then,  instead  of  deducing  all  our  several  duties  as  he 
might,  contents  himself  with  mentioning  the  three  great 
branches  of  them,  (a)  Duties  in  respect  of  God,  consisting 
of  sentiments  and  acts  (Veneration,  Love,  Worship,  &c.)  called 
forth  by  the  consideration  of  his  attributes,  and  having  a  cha- 
racter of  Fitness  far  beyond  any  than  is  visible  in  applying 
e(iual  geometrical  figures  to  one  another,  {h)  Duties  in  respect 
of  our  Fellow-creatures:  (1)  Justice  and  Equity,  the  doing  as 
we  would  be  done  by.  Iniquity  is  the  very  same  in  Action, 
as  Falsity  or  Contradiction  in  Theory ;  what  makes  the  one 
absurd  makes  the  other  unreasotiable ;  'it  would  be  impossible 
for  men  not  to  be  as  much  (!)  ashamed  of  doing  Iniquity ^  as 
they  are  of  helieving  Contradictions ;'  (2)  Universal  Love  or 
Benevolence,  the  promoting  the  welfare  or  happiness  of  all, 
which  is  obligatory  on  various  grounds :  the  Good  being  the 
fit  and  reasonable,  the  greatest  Good  is  the  most  fit  and  reason- 
able ;  by  this  God's  action  is  determined,  and  so  ought  ours; 
no  Duty  affords  a  more  ample  pleasure ;  besides  havmg  a 
*  certain  natural  affection '  for  those  most  closelj'"  connected 
with  us,  we  desire  to  multiply  affinities,  which  means  to  found 
society,  for  the  sake  of  the  more  comfortable  life  that  mutual 
good  offices  bring.  [This  is  a  very  confused  deduction  of  an 
obligation.']  (c)  Duties  in  respect  to  our  Selves,  viz.,  self- 
preservation,  teni-perance,  contentmerd,  &c.;  for  not  being  authors 
of  our  being,  we  have  no  just  power  or  authority  to  take  it 
away  directly,  or,  by  abuse  of  our  faculties,  indirectly. 

After  expatiating  in  a  rhetorical  strain  on  the  eternal, 
universal,  and  absolutely  unchangeable  character  of  the  law 


MORALITY    INDEPENDENT   OF   THE    DEITY.  151 

of  Nature  or  Right  Reason,  be  specifies  the  sense  wherein 
the  eternal  moral  obligations  are  independent  of  the  will  of 
God  himself;  it  comes  to  this,  that,  although  God  makes  all 
things  and  the  relations  between  them,  noticing  is  holy  and 
good  because  he  commands  it,  but  he  commands  it  because  it 
is  holy  and  good.  Finally,  he  expounds  tlie  relation  of  Reward 
and  Punishment  to  the  law  of  Nature ;  the  obligation  of  it  is 
before  and  distinct  from  these;  but,  while  full  of  admiration 
for  the  Stoical  idea  of  the  self-sufficiency  of  virtue,  he  is 
constrained  to  add  that  'men  never  will  generally,  and  indeed 
'tis  mot  ver}'-  reasonably  to  be  expected  they  should,  part  with 
all  the  comforts  of  life,  and  even  life  itself,  without  any  expecta- 
tion of  a  future  recompense.'  The  *  manifold  absurdities'  of 
Hobbes  being  first  exposed,  he  accordingly  returns,  in  pur- 
suance of  the  theological  argument  of  his  Lectures,  to  show 
that  the  eternal  moral  obligations,  founded  on  the  natural 
differences  of  things,  are  at  the  same  time  the  express  will  and 
command  of  God  to  all  rational  creatures,  and  must  neces- 
sarily and  certainly  be  attended  with  Rewards  and  Punish- 
ments in  a  future  state. 

The  summary  of  Clarke's  views  might  stand  thus  : — 

I. — The  Standard  is  a  certain  Fitness  of  action  between 
persons,  implicated  in  their  nature  as  much  as  any  fixed 
proportions  between  numbers  or  other  relation  among  things. 
Except  in  such  an  expression  as  this,  moral  good  admits  of  no 
kmd  of  external  reference. 

II. — There  is  very  little  Psychology  involved.  The 
Faculty  is  the  Reason  ;  its  action  a  case  of  mere  intellectual 
apprehension.  The  element  of  Feeling  is  nearly  excluded. 
Disinterested  sentiment  is  so  minor  a  point  as  to  call  forth 
only  the  passing  allusion  to  '  a  certain  natural  affection.' 

III. — Happiness  is  not  considered  except  in  a  vague  refer- 
ence to  good  public  and  private  as  involved  with  Fit  and 
Unfit  action. 

IV. — His  account  of  Duties  is  remarkable  only  for  the  con- 
sistency of  his  attempt  to  find  parallels  for  each  amongst 
intellectual  relations.  The  climax  intended  in  the  assimila- 
tion of  Injustice  to  Contradictions  is  a  very  anti-climax  ;  if 
people  were  only  ^  as  much'  ashamed  of  doing  injustice  as  of 
believing  contradictions,  the  moral  order  of  the  world  would 
be  poorly  provided  for. 

V. — The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Politics  is  hardly  touched. 
Society  is  born  of  the  desire  to  multiply  affinities  through 
mutual  interchange  of  good  offices. 


152  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — LOCKE. 

VI. — His  Ethical  disquisition  is  only  part  of  a  Theolo^cal 
argument;  and  this  helps  to  explain  his  assertion  of  the  Inde- 
pendence as  well  as  of  the  Insafficiency  of  Morality.  The 
tinal  outcome  of  the  discussion  is  that  Morality  needs  the 
support  of  Revelation.  But,  to  get  from  tliis  an  argument  for 
the  truth  of  Revelation,  it  is  necessary  that  morality  should 
have  an  independent  foundation  in  the  nature  of  things,  apart 
from  any  direct  divine  appointment. 

William  Wollaston  (1659-1724),  author  of  the  '  Religion 
of  Nature  Delineated,'  is  usually  put  into  the  same  class  of 
moralists  with  Clarke.  With  him,  a  had  action  (whether  of 
commission  or  omission)  contains  the  denial  of  a  true  pro- 
position. Truth  can  be  denied  by  actions  as  well  as  by  words. 
Thus,  the  violation  of  a  contract  is  the  denial  by  an  action 
that  the  contract  has  been  concluded.  Robbing  a  traveller 
is  the  denial  that  what  you  take  from  him  is  his.  An  action 
that  denies  one  or  more  true  propositions  cannot  be  good, 
and  is  necessarily  bad.  A  good  action  is  one  whose  omission 
would  be  bad  or  whose  contrary  is  bad,  in  the  above  sense. 
An  indiferent  action  is  one  that  can  be  omitted  or  done  with- 
out contradicting  any  truth.  Reason,  the  judge  of  what  is 
true  and  false,  is  the  only  faculty  concerned ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  Wollaston  makes  large  reference  to  the  subject  of  Hap- 
piness, finding  it  to  consist  in  an  excess  of  pleasures  as  com- 
pared with  pains.  He  holds  that  his  doctrine  is  in  conformity 
with  all  the  facts.  It  affirms  a  progressive  morality,  that 
keeps  pace  with  and  depend  upon  the  progress  of  Science. 
It  can  explain  errors  in  morals  as  distinct  from  vice.  An 
error  is  the  affirmation  by  an  action  of  a  false  proposition, 
thought  to  be  true ;  the  action  is  bad,  but  the  agent  is 
innocent. 

JOHN  LOCKE.        [1632-1704.] 

Locke  did  not  apply  himself  to  the  consecutive  evolution 
of  an  Ethical  theory;  whence  his  views,  although  on  the 
whole  sufficiently  unmistakeable,  are  not  always  reconcileable 
with  one  another. 

In  Book  I.  of  the  *  Essay  on  the  Understanding'  he  devotes 
himself  to  the  refutation  of  Innate  Ideas,  whether  Speculative 
or  Practical.  Chap.  III.  is  on  the  alleged  Innate  Practical 
Principles,  or  rules  of  Right  and  Wrong.  The  objections 
urged  against  these  Principles  have  scarcely  been  added  to, 
and  have  never  been  answered.  We  shall  endeavour  to  indi- 
cate the  heads  of  the  reasoning. 


OBJECTIONS   TO   INNATE    PRACTICAL    PKINCIPLES,       153 

1.  The  Innate  Practical  Principles  are  for  the  most  part 
not  self-evident ;  they  are,  in  this  respect,  not  on  an  equal 
footing  with  the  Speculative  Principles  v^hose  innate  origin 
is  also  disputed.  They  require  reasoning  and  explanation  in 
order  to  be  understood.  jNIany  men  are  ignorant  of  them, 
while  others  assent  to  them  slowly,  if  they  do  assent  to  them ; 
all  which  is  at  variance  with  their  being  innate. 

2.  There  is  no  Practical  Principle  universally  received 
among  mankind.  All  that  can  be  said  of  Justice  is  that  wos^ 
men  agree  to  recognize  it.  It  is  vain  to  allege  of  confederacies 
of  thieves,  that  they  keep  faith  with  one  another ;  for  this 
keeping  of  faith,  is  merely  for  their  own  convenience.  We 
cannot  call  that  a  sense  of  Justice  which  merely  binds  a  man 
to  a  certain  number  of  his  fellow-criminals,  in  order  the  more 
ejTectually  to  plunder  and  kill  honest  men.  Instead  of  Justice, 
it  is  the  essential  condition  of  success  in  Injustice. 

If  it  be  said  in  reply,  that  these  men  tacitly  assent  in  their 
minds  to  what  their  practice  contradicts,  Locke  answers,  first, 
that  men's  actions  must  be  held  as  the  best  interpreters  of 
their  thoughts  ;  and  if  many  men's  practices,  and  some  men's 
open  professions,  have  been  opposed  to  these  principles,  we 
cannot  conclude  them  to  be  Innate.  Secondly,  It  is  difficult 
for  us  to  assent  to  Innate  Practical  Principles,  ending  only  in 
contemplation.  Such  principles  either  influence  our  conduct, 
or  they  are  nothing.  There  is  no  mistake  as  to  the  Innate 
principles  of  the  desire  of  happiness,  and  aversion  to  misery  ; 
these  do  not  stop  short  in  tacit  assent,  but  urge  every  man's 
conduct  every  hour  of  his  life.  If  there  were  anything  cor- 
responding to  these  in  the  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,  we 
should  have  no  dispute  about  them. 

3.  There  is  no  Moral  rule,  that  may  not  have  a  reason 
demanded  for  it ;  which  ought  not  to  be  the  case  with,  any 
innate  principle.  That  we  should  do  as  we  would  be  done 
by,  is  the  foundation  of  all  morality,  and  yet,  if  proposed  to 
any  one  for  the  first  time,  might  not  such  an  one,  without 
absurdity,  ask  a  reason  why  Y  But  this  would  imply  that 
there  is  some  deeper  principle  for  it  to  repose  upon,  capable 
of  being  assigned  as  its  motive ;  that  it  is  not  ultimate,  and 
therefore  not  innate.  That  men  should  observe  compacts  is 
a  great  and  undeniable  rule,  yet,  in  this,  a  Chn'stian  would 
give  as  reason  the  command  of  God ;  a  Hobbist  would  say 
that  the  public  requires  it,  and  would  punish  for  disobeying 
it ;  and  an  old  heathen  philosopher  would  have  urged  that  it 
was  opposed  to  human  virtue  and  perfection. 


154  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— LOCKE. 

Bonnd  up  with  this  consideration,  is  the  circumstance  that 
moral  rules  differ  among  men,  according  to  their  views  of 
happiness.  The  existence  of  God,  and  our  obedience  to  him, 
are  manifest  in  many  ways,  and  are  the  true  ground  of 
morality,  seeing  that  only  God  can  call  to  account  every 
offender  ;  yet,  from  the  union  of  virtue  and  public  happiness, 
all  men  have  recommended  the  practice  of  what  is  for  their 
own  obvious  advantage.  There  is  qaite  enough  in  this  self- 
interest  to  cause  moral  rules  to  be  enforced  by  men  that  care 
neither  for  the  supreme  Lawgiver,  nor  for  the  Hell  ordained 
by  him  to  punish  transgressors. 

After  all,  these  great  principles  of  morality  are  more  com- 
mended than  practised.  As  to  Conscience  checking  us  in 
these  breaches,  making  them  fewer  than  they  would  otherwise 
be,  men  may  arrive  at  such  a  conscience,  or  self-restraining 
sentiment,  in  other  ways  than  by  an  innate  endowment.  Some 
men  may  come  to  assent  to  moral  rules  from  a  knowledge  of 
their  value  as  means  to  ends.  Others  may  take  up  the  same 
view  as  a  part  of  their  education.  However  the  persuasion  is 
come  by,  it  will  serve  as  a  conscience ;  which  conscience  is 
nothing  else  than  our  own  opinion  of  the  rectitude  or  pravity 
of  our  actions. 

How  could  men  with  serenity  and  confidence  transgress 
rules  stamped  upon  their  inmost  soul  ?  Look  at  the  practices 
of  nations  civilized  and  uncivilized;  at  the  robberies,  murders, 
rapes  of  an  army  sacking  a  town  ;  at  the  legalized  usages  of 
nations,  the  destruction  of  infants  and  of  aged  parents  for 
personal  convenience;  cannibalism;  the  most  monstrous  forms 
of  unchastity ;  the  fashionable  murder  named  Duelling.  Where 
are  the  innate  principles  of  Justice,  Piety,  Gratitude,  Equity, 
Chastity  ? 

If  we  read  History,  and  cast  our  glance  over  the  world, 
we  shall  scarcely  find  any  rule  of  Morality  (excepting  such  as 
are  necessary  to  hold  society  together,  and  these  too  with 
great  limitations)  but  what  is  somewhere  or  other  set  aside, 
and  an  opposite  established,  by  whole  societies  of  men.  Men 
may  break  a  law  without  disowning  it;  but  it  is  inconceivable 
that  a  whole  nation  should  publicly  reject  and  renounce  what 
every  one  of  them,  certainly  and  infallibly,  knows  to  be  a  law. 
Whatever  practical  principle  is  innate,  must  be  known  to 
every  one  to  be  just  and  good.  The  generally  allowed  breach 
of  any  rule  anywhere  must  be  held  to  prove  that  it  is  not 
innate.  If  there  be  any  rule  having  a  fair  claim  to  be  im- 
printed by  nature,  it  is  the  rule  that  Parents  should  preserve 


MORALITY   TOO   COMPLEX   TO   BE  INNATE.  155 

and  cherish  their  children.  If  such  a  principle  be  innate,  it 
must  be  found  regulating  practice  everywhere ;  or,  at  ijie 
lowest,  it  must  be  known  and  assented  to.  But  it  is  very  far 
from  having  been  uniformly  practised,  even  among  en- 
lightened nations.  And  as  to  its  being  an  innate  truth, 
known  to  all  men,  that  also  is  untrue.  Indeed,  the  terms  of 
it  are  not  intelligible  without  other  knowledge.  The  state- 
ment, '  it  is  the  duty  of  parents  to  preserve  their  children,' 
cannot  be  understood  without  a  Law ;  a  Law  requires  a  Law- 
maker, and  Reward  or  Panishment.  And  as  punishment  does 
not  always  follow  in  this  life,  nothing  less  than  a  recognition 
of  Divine  Law  will  suffice ;  in  other  words,  there  must  be 
intuitions  of  God,  Law,  Obligation,  Panishment,  and  a  Future 
Life  :  every  one  of  which  may  be,  and  is,  deemed  to  be  innate. 

It  is  incredible  that  men,  if  all  these  things  were  stamped 
on  their  minds,  could  deliberately  offend  against  them ;  still 
more,  that  rulers  should  silently  connive  at  such  transgressions. 

4.  The  supporters  of  innate  principles  are  unable  to  point 
out  distinctly  what  they  are.*     Yet,  if  these  were  imprinted 

*  Locke  examines  the  Innate  Principles  put  forth  by  Lord  Herbert 
in  his  book  De  Veritate,  1st,  There  is  a  supreme  governor  of  the  world; 
2nd,"Worship  is  due  to  him;  3rd, Virtue,  joined  with  Piety,  is  the  best 
Worship;  4th,  Men  must  repent  of  their  sins;  5th,  There  will  be  a 
future  life  of  rewards  and  punishments.  Locke  admits  these  to  be  such 
truths  as  a  rational  creature,  after  due  explanation  given  them,  can  hardly 
avoid  attending  to;  but  he  will  not  allow  th   ui  Lu  be  innate.     For, 

First,  There  are  other  propositions  with  as  good  a  claim  as  these  to 
be  of  the  number  imprinted  by  nature  on  the  mind. 

Secondly,  The  marks  assigned  are  not  found  in  all  the  propositions. 
Many  men,  and  even  whole  nations,  disbelieve  some  of  them. 

Then,  as  to  the  third  principle, — virtue,  joined  with  piety,  is  the  best 
■worship  of  God ;  he  cannot  see  how  it  can  be  innate,  seeing  that  it  con- 
tains a  name,  virtue,  of  the  greatest  possible  uncertainty  of  meaning. 
For,  if  virtue  be  taken,  as  commonly  it  is,  to  denote  the  actions  accounted 
laudable  in  particular  countries,  then  the  proposition  will  be  untrue.  Or, 
if  it  is  taken  to  mean  accordance  with  God's  will,  it  will  then  be  true, 
but  unmeaning ;  that  God  will  be  pleased  with  what  he  commands  is  an 
identical  assertion,  of  no  use  to  any  one. 

So  the  fourth  proposition, — men  must  repent  of  their  sins, — is  open  to 
the  same  remark.  It  is  not  possible  that  God  should  ena:rave  on  men'9 
minds  principles  couched  on  such  uncertain  words  as  Virtue  and  Sin. 
Nay  more,  as  a  general  word  is  nothing  in  itself,  but  only  report  as  to 
particular  facts,  the  knowledge  of  rules  is  a  knowledge  of  a  sufficient 
number  of  actions  to  determine  the  rule.  [Innate  principles  are  not  com- 
patible with  Nominalism.] 

According  to  Lord  Herbert,  the  standard  of  virtue  is  the  common 
notions  in  which  all  men  agree.  They  are  such  as  the  following, — to  avoid 
evil,  to  be  temperate,  in  doubtful  cases  to  choose  the  safer  course,  not  to 
do  to  others  what  you  would  not  wish  done  to  yourself,  to  be  grateful  to 


166  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — LOCKE. 

on  the  mind,  there  could  be  no  more  doubt  about  them  than 
about  the  number  of  our  fingers.  We  well  know  that,  if  men 
of  different  sects  were  to  write  out  their  respective  lists,  they 
(vould  set  down  exactly  such  as  suited  their  several  schools  or 
churches. 

There  is,  Locke  remarks,  a  ready,  but  not  very  material, 
answer  to  his  objections,  namely,  that  the  innate  principles 
may,  by  Education  and  Custom,  be  darkened  and  worn  out 
of  men's  minds.  But  this  takes  away  at  once  the  argument 
from  universal  consent,  and  leaves  nothing  but  what  each 
party  thinks  should  pass  for  universal  consent,  namely,  their 
own  private  persuasion :  a  method  whereby  a  set  of  men 
presuming  themselves  to  be  the  only  masters  of  right  reason, 
put  aside  the  votes  and  opinions  of  the  rest  of  mankind.  Thus, 
notwithstanding  the  innate  light,  we  are  as  much  in  the  dark 
as  if  it  did  not  exist ;  a  rule  that  will  warp  any  way  is  not  to 
be  distinguished  amidst  its  contraries.  If  these  rules  are  so 
liable  to  vary,  through  adventitious  notions,  we  should  find 
them  clearest  in  children  and  in  persons  wholly  illiterate. 
He  grants  that  there  are  many  opinions,  received  by  men  of 
different  countries,  educations,  and  tempers,  and  held  as 
unquestionable  first  principles ;  but  then  the  absurdity  of 
some,  and  the  mutual  contradiction  of  others,  make  it  impos- 
sible that  they  should  be  all  true.  Yet  it  will  often  happen 
that  these  men  will  sooncir  part  with  their  lives,  than  suffer 
the  truth  of  their  opinions  to  be  questioned. 

We  can  see  from  our  experience  how  the  belief  in  prin- 
ciples grows  up.  Doctrines,  with  no  better  original  than  the 
superstition  of  a  nurse,  or  the  authority  of  an  old  woman, 
may  in  course  of  time,  and  by  the  concurrence  of  neighbours, 
grow  up  to  the  dignity  of  first  truths  in  Religion  and  in 
Morality.  Persons  matured  under  those  influences,  and, 
looking  into  their  own  minds,  find  nothing  anterior  to  the 
opinions  taught  them  before  they  kept  a  record  of  themselves ; 
they,  therefore,  without  scruple,  conclude  that  those  proposi- 
tions whose  origin  they  cannot  trace  are  the  impress  of  God 
and  nature  upon  their  minds.  Such  a  result  is  unavoidable 
in  the  circumstances  of  the  bulk  of  mankind,  who  require 
some   foundation   of  principles  to  rest  upon,    and  have  no 

benefactors,  &c.  Conscience  is  what  teaches  us  to  carry  out  those  prin- 
ciples in  practice.  It  excites  joy  over  good  actions,  and  produces  ab- 
horrence and  repentance  for  bad.  Upon  it,  our  repentance  of  mind  and 
eternal  welfare  depend.  (For  an  account  of  Lord  Herbert's  common 
notions,  see  Appendix  B.,  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury.J 


MORALITY   SUPPOSES  LAW.  157 

means  of  obtaining  them  but  on  trust  from  others.  Custom  is 
a  greater  power  than  Nature,  and,  while  we  are  yet  young, 
seldom  fails  to  make  us  worship  as  divine  what  she  has  inured 
us  to;  nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that,  when  we  come  to 
matui-e  life,  and  are  engrossed  with  quite  different  matters, 
we  are  indisposed  to  sit  down  and  examine  all  our  received 
tenets,  to  find  ourselves  in  the  wrong,  to  run  counter  to  the 
opinions  of  our  country  or  party,  and  to  be  branded  with 
such  epithets  as  whimsical,  sceptical.  Atheist.  It  is  inevitable 
that  we  should  take  up  at  first  borrowed  principles;  and  unless 
we  have  all  the  faculties  and  the  means  of  searching  into 
their  foundations,  we  naturally  go  on  to  the  end  as  we  have 
begun. 

In  the  following  chapter  (IV.),  he  argues  the  general 
question  of  Innate  Ideas  in  the  case  of  the  Idea  of  God. 

In  Book  IL,  Chap.  XXL,  Locke  discusses  the  freedom  of 
the  wdll,  with  some  allusions  to  the  natm^e  of  happiness  and 
the  causes  of  wrong  conduct.  Happiness  is  the  utmost  plea- 
sure we  are  capable  of,  misery  the  utmost  pain;  pleasure  and 
pain  define  Good  and  Evil.  In  practice,  we  are  chiefly  occu- 
pied in  getting  rid  of  troubles ;  absent  good  does  not  much 
move  us.  All  uneasiness  being- removed,  a  moderate  portion  of 
good  contents  us ;  and  some  Tew  degrees  of  pleasure  in  a  suc- 
cession of  ordinary  enjoyments  are  enough  to  make  happiness. 
[Epicurus,  and  others  among  the  ancients,  said  as  much.] 

Men  have  wrong  desires,  and  do  wrong  acts,  but  it  is  from 
wrong  judgments.  They  never  mistake  a  present  pleasure  or 
pain ;  they  always  act  correctly  upon  that.  They  are  the 
victims  of  deceitful  appearances  ;  they  make  wrong  judgments 
in  comparing  present  with  future  pains,  such  is  the  weakness 
of  the  mind's  constitution  in  this  department.  Our  wrong 
judgments  proceed  partly  from  ignorance  and  partly  from 
inadvertence,  and  our  preference  of  vice  to  virtue  is  accounted 
for  by  these  wrong  judgments. 

Chap.  XXVIIL  discusses  Moral  Relations.  Good  and 
Evil  are  nothing  but  Pleasure  and  Pain,  and  what  causes 
them.  Moral  Good  or  Evil  is  the  conformity  or  unconformity 
of  our  voluntary  actions  to  some  Law,  entailing  upon  us  good 
or  evil  by  the  will  and  power  of  the  Law-giver,  to  which  good 
and  evil  we  apply  the  names  Reward  and  Punishment. 

There  are  three  sorts  of  Moral  Rules :  1st,  The  Divine 
Law,  whether  promulgated  by  the  Light  of  Nature  or  by 
Revelation,  and  enforced  by  rewards  and  punishments  in  a 
future  life.     This  law,  when  ascertained,  is  the  touchstone  of 


158  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS  — LOCKE. 

moral  rectitude.  2nd,  The  Civil  Law,  or  tlie  Law  of  the 
State,  supported  by  the  penalties  of  the  civil  judge.  3rd, 
The  Law  of  Opinion  or  Reputation.  Even  after  resigning, 
to  public  authority,  the  disposal  of  the  public  force,  men 
still  retain  the  power  of  privately  approving  or  disap- 
proving actions,  according  to  their  views  of  virtue  and  vice. 
The  being  commended  or  dispraised  by  our  fellows  may  thus 
be  called  the  sanction  of  Reputation,  a  power  often  surpassing 
in  efficacy  both  the  other  sanctions. 

Morahty  is  the  reference  of  all  actions  to  one  or  other  of 
these  three  Laws.  Instead  of  applying  innate  notions  of  good 
and  evil,  the  mind,  having  been  taught  the  several  rules  en- 
joined by  these  authorities,  compares  any  given  action  with 
these  rules,  and  pronounces  accordingly.  A  rule  is  an  aggre- 
gate of  simple  Ideas  ;  so  is  an  action ;  and  the  conformity 
required  is  the  ordering  of  the  action  so  that  the  simple  ideas 
belonging  to  it  may  correspond  to  those  required  by  the  law. 
Thus,  all  Moral  Notions  may  be  reduced  to  the  simple  ideas 
gained  by  the  two  leading  sources — Sensation  and  Reflection. 
Murder  is  an  aggregate  of  simple  ideas,  traceable  in  the  detail 
to  these  sources. 

The  summary  of  Locke's  views  is  as  follows  : — 

I. — With  reference  to  the  Stfhidard  of  Morality,  we  have 
these  two  great  positions — 

First,  That  the  production  of  pleasure  and  pain  to  sentient 
beings  is  the  ultimate  foundation  of  moral  good  and  evil. 

Secondly,  That  morality  is  a  system  of  Law,  enacted  by 
one  or  other  of  three  different  authorities. 

II. — In  the  Psychology  of  Ethics,  Locke,  by  implication, 
holds — 

First,  That  there  is  no  innate  moral  sentiment ;  that  our 
moral  ideas  are  the  generalities  of  moral  actions.  That  our 
faculties  of  moral  discernment  are — (1)  those  that  discern 
the  pleasures  and  pains  of  mankind;  and  ('!),  those  that 
comprehend  and  interpret  the  laws  of  God,  the  Nation,  and 
Public  Opinion.  And  (3)  he  counts  that  the  largest  share 
in  the  formation  of  our  Moral  Sentiments  is  due  to  Education 
and  Custom. 

[We  have  seen  his  views  on  Free-will,  p.  413.] 

As  regards  the  nature  of  Disinterested  Action,  he  pro- 
nounces no  definite  opinion.  He  makes  few  attempts  to 
analyze  the  emotional  and  active  part  of  our  nature. 

III. — His  Sum  mum  Bonum  is  stated  generally  as  the  pro- 
curing of  Pleasure  and  the  avoiding  of  Pain. 


CHAKACTEKISTICS   OF  THE  MOKAL  PERCEPTIONS.      159 

rV. — He  lias  no  peculiar  views  on  the  Moral  Code,  or  on 
the  enforcements  of  Morality. 

V. — The  connexion  of  Ethics  with  Politics  is,  in  him,  tho 
assimilating  of  Morality  to  Law. 

VI. —  VVith  relerence  to  Theology,  he  considers  that,  by 
the  exercise  of  the  Reason,  we  may  discover  the  existence  and 
attributes  of  God,  and  our  daties  to  iiim  ;  his  ascertained  will 
is  the  highest  moral  rule,  the  true  touchstone  of  Moral  Jiecti- 
tude. 

JOSEPH   BUTLER.         [1692-1752.] 

Butler's  Ethical  System  may  be  found — First,  in  a  short 
Dissertation  on  Virtue,  appended  to  the  Analogy ;  secondly, 
and  chiefly,  in  his  first  three  Sermons,  entitled  '  Human 
Nature;'  thirdly,  in  other  Sermons,  as  (V.)  on  Compassion,  and 
(XI.)  on  Benevolence.  Various  illustrations  of  Ethical  doctrine 
are  interspersed  through  the  Analogy,  as  in  Part  I.,  Chap.  2, 
entitled  'the  government  of  God  by  rewards  and  punish- 
ments.' 

The  Dissertation  on  Virtue  is  intended  to  vindicate,  iu 
man,  the  existence  of  a  moral  nature,  apart  from  both  Pru- 
dence and  Benevolence. 

A  moral  government  supposes  a  moral  nature  in  man,  op 
a  power  of  distinguishing  right  from  wrong.  All  men  and  all 
systems  agree  as  to  the  fact  of  moral  perceptions. 

As  characteristics  of  these  moral  perceptions,  it  is  to  be 
noted — First,  they  refer  to  voluntaiy  actions.  Secondly,  they 
are  accompanied  with  the  feelings  of  good  or  of  ill  desert, 
which  good  or  ill  desert  is  irrespective  of  the  good  of  society. 
Thirdly,  the  perception  of  ill  desert  has  regard  to  the  capaci- 
ties of  the  agent.  Fourthly,  Prudence,  or  regard  to  ourselves, 
is  a  fair  subject  of  moral  approbation,  and  imprudence  of  the 
contrary.  Our  o^ti  self-interest  seems  to  require  strengthen- 
ing by  other  men's  manifested  pleasure  and  displeasure.  Still, 
this  position  is  by  no  means  indisputable,  and  the  author  is 
willing  to  give  up  the  words  'virtue'  and  'vice,'  as  applicable 
to  prudence  and  folly  ;  and  to  contend  merely  that  our  moral 
faculty  is  not  indifferent  to  this  class  of  actions.  Fifthly, 
Virtue  is  not  wholly  resolvable  into  Benevolence  (that  is,  the 
general  good,  or  Utility*).     This  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 

*  In  this  respect,  Butler  diifers  from  both  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson. 
With  Shaltesbury,  the  main  function  of  the  moral  sense  is  to  smile  ap- 
proval en  benevolent  affections,  by  which  an  additional  pleasure  is  thrown 
into  the  scale  against   the   selfish   affections.      The   superiority  of  the 


160  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 

our  approbation  is  not  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  happi- 
ness flowing  from  an  action  [he  means  iimyiediafely  flowing, 
which  does  not  decide  the  question].  We  disapprove  of  false- 
hood, injustice,  and  unprovoked  violence,  even  although  more 
happiness  would  result  from  them  than  from  the  contrary. 
Moreover,  we  are  not  always  judges  of  the  whole  consequ(3nce3 
of  acting.  Undoubtedly,  however,  benevolence  is  our  duty,  if 
there  be  no  moral  principle  to  oppose  it. 

The  title  '  Human  Nature,'  given  to  Butler's  chief  Ethical 
exposition,  indicates  that  he  does  not  take  an  a  priori  view  of 
the  foundations  of  Ethics,  like  Cudworth  and  Clarke,  but 
makes  them  repose  on  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind. 

In  Sermon  first,  he  lays  out  the  diflerent  parts  of  our 
Emotional  and  Active  nature,  including  Benevolence,  Self- 
love,  Conscience.  The  recognition  of  these  three  as  distinct, 
and  mutually  irresolvable,  is  the  Psychological  basis  of  his 
Ethics.* 

The  existence  of  pure  or  disinterested  Benevolence  is 
proved  by  such  facts,  as  Friendship,  Compassion,  Parental  and 
Filial  afiections.  Benevolent  impulses  to  mankind  generally. 
But  although  the  object  of  benevolence  is  the  public  good,  and 
of  self-love  private  good,  yet  the  two  ultimately  coincide. 
[This  questionable  assertion  must  trammel  any  proof  that  the 
author  can  give  of  our  possessing  purely  disinterested 
impulses.] 

In  a  long  note,  he  impugns  the  theory  of  Hobbes  that 
Benevolent  afiection  and  its  pleasures  are  merely  a  form  of  the 
love  of  Povver.  He  maintains,  and  with  reason,  that  the  love 
of  power  manifests  its  consequences  quite  as  much  in  cruelty 
as  in  benevolence. 

The  second  argument,  to  show  that  Benevolence  is  a  fact 
of  our  constitution,  involves  the  greatest  peculiarity  of  Batler's 

*  natural  affections'  thus  depends  on  a  double  pleasure,  their  intrinsically 
pleasureable  character,  and  the  superadded  pleasure  of  reflection.  The 
lendency  of  Shaftesbury  is  here  to  make  benevolence  and  virtue  identical, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  impair  the  disinterested  character  of  benevo- 
lence. 

*  With  this  view,  we  may  compare  the  psycholoj^y  of  Shaftes- 
bury, set  forth  in  his  'Characteristics  of  Men,  Manners,  and  Times.' 
The  soul  has  two  kinds  of  aff'ections — (1)   Uif-afedioi,,  leading  to  the 

*  good  of  the  private,'  such  as  love  of  life,  revenge,  pleasure  or  ap  itude 
towards  nourishment  and  the  means  of  generation,  emulation  or  love  of 
praise,  indolence ;  and  (2)  Natural  affections,  leading  to  the  good  of  the 
public.  The  natural  or  spontaneous  predominance  of  benevolence  is 
goodness ;  the  subjection,  of  the  selfish  by  effort  and  training  is  virtue. 
Virtue  consists  generally  in  the  proper  exercise  of  the  several  affections. 


WELL-BEING  NOT   THE    END    OF   APPETITa  161 

Psycbologj,  although  he  was  not  the  first  to  announce  it.  The 
scheme  of  the  human  feelings  comp:ehends,  in  addition  to 
Benevolence  and  Self-Love,  a  number  o>  passions  and  a,ffections 
tending  to  the  same  ends  as  these  (some  to  tlie  good  of  our 
fellows,  others  to  our  own  good)  ;  while  in  following  them  we 
are  not  conscious  of  seeking  those  ends,  but  some  different 
ends.  Such  are  our  various  Appetites  and  Passions.  Thus, 
hunger  promotes  our  private  well-being,  bat  in  obeying  its 
dictates  we  are  not  thinking  of  that  object,  bat  of  the  procur- 
ing of  food.  Curiosity  promotes  both  pablio  and  private  good, 
but  its  direct  and  immediate  object  is  knowledge. 

[This  refined  distinction  appears  first  in  Aquinas  ;  there  is 
in  it  a  palpable  confusion  of  ideas.  If  we  regard  the  final 
impulse  of  hunger,  it  is  not  toward  the  food,  but  towards  the 
appeasing  of  a  pain  and  the  gaining  of  a  pleasure,  which  are 
certainly  identical  with  self,  being  the  definition  of  self  in  the 
last  resort.  We  associate  the  food  with  the  gratification  of 
these  demands,  and  hence  food  becomes  an  end  to  us — one  of 
the  associated  or  iutermedlate  ends.  So  the  desire  of  know- 
ledge is  the  desire  of  the  pleasure,  or  of  the  relief  from  pain, 
accruing  from  knowledge ;  while,  as  in  the  case  of  food, 
knowledge  is  to  a  great  degree  only  an  instrument,  and  there- 
fore an  intermediate  and  associated  end.  So  the  desire  of 
esteem  is  the  desire  of  a  pleasure,  or  else  of  the  instrument  of 
pleasure. 

In  short,  Butler  tries,  without  effect,  to  evade  the  general 
principles  of  the  will — our  being  moved  exclusively  by  plea- 
sure and  pain.  Abundant  reference  has  been  already-  made 
to  the  circumstances  that  modify  in  appearance,  or  in  reality, 
the  operation  of  this  principle.  The  distinction  between  self- 
love  and  the  particular  appetites,  passions,  and  affections,  is 
mainly  the  distinction  between  a  great  aggregate  of  the  reason 
(the  total  interests  of  our  being)  and  the  separate  items  that 
make  it  up.] 

The  distinction  is  intended  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
Betting  forth  of  Conscience,*  which  is  called  a  '  principle  of 

*  Butler's  definition  of  conscience,  and  his  whole  treatment  of  it,  have 
created  a  great  puzzle  of  classification,  as  to  whether  he  is  to  be  placed 
along  with  the  upholders  of  a  'moral  sense.'  Shjiftesbury  is  more  ex- 
plicit :  '  No  sooner  does  the  eye  open  upon  figures,  the  ear  to  sounds, 
than  straight  the  Beautiful  results,  and  grace  and  harmony  are  known 
and  acknowledged.  No  sooner  are  actions  viewed,  no  sooner  tfie  human 
affections  discerned  (and  they  are,  most  of  them,  as  soon  discerned  as 
felt),  than  straight  an  inward  eye  distinguishes  the  fair  and  shapely,  the 
amiable  and  admirable,  apart  from  the  deformed,  the  foul,  the  odious,  or  the 


162  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 

reflection  in  men,  whereby  they  distinguish  between,  approve 
and  disapprove,  their  own  actions.'  This  principle  has  for  its 
result  the  good  of  society  ;  still,  in  following  it,  we  are  not  con- 
scious of  aiming  at  the  good  of  society.  A  father  has  an 
afiection  for  his  children  ;  this  is  one  thing.  He  has  also  a 
principle  of  reflection,  that  urges  him  with  added  force  and 
with  more  steady  persistency  than  any  afiection;  which  prin- 
ciple mast  therefore  be  difierent  from  mere  afl'ection. 

Butler's  analysis  of  the  human  feelings  is  thus  :  I. — Bene- 
volence and  Self-love.  II. — The  particular  Appetites,  Passions, 
and  Affections,  operating  in  the  same  direction  as  Benevolence 
and  Self-love,  but  without  intending  it.  HI. — Conscience,  of 
which  the  same  is  to  be  said. 

His  reply  to  the  objection, — against  our  being  made  for 
Benevolence, — founded  on  our  mischievous  propensities,  is,  that 
in  the  same  way  there  are  tendencies  mischievous  to  ourselves, 
and  yet  no  one  denies  us  the  possession  of  self-love.  He  re- 
marks farther  that  these  evil  tendencies  are  the  abuse  of  such 
as  are  right ;  ungovernable  passion,  reckless  pursuit  of  our 
own  good,  and  not  pure  malevolence,  are  the  causes  of  in- 
justice and  the  other  vices. 

In  short,  we  are  made  for  pursuing  both  our  own  good 
and  the  good  of  others;  but  present  gratifications  and  passing 
inclinations  interfere  alike  with  both  objects. 

Sermons  11. ,  III.,  are  meant  to  establish,  from  our  moral 
nature,  the  Supremacy  of  Conscience. 

Our  moral  duties  may  be  deduced  from  the  scheme  of  our 
nature,  which  shows  the  design  of  the  Deity.  There  may  be 
some  difiiculties  attending  the  deduction,  owing  to  the  want 
of  uniformity  in  the  human  constitution.  Still,  the  broad 
feelings  of  the  mind,  and  the  purpose  of  them,  can  no  more  be 
mistaken  than  the  existence  and  the  purpose  of  the  eyes.  It 
can  be  made  quite  apparent  that  the  single  principle  called 
conscience  is  intended  to  rule  all  the  rest. 

But,  as  Conscience  is  only  one  part  of  our  nature,  there 

despicable.''  '  In  a  creature  capable  of  forming  general  notions  of  things, 
not  only  the  outward  beings  which  offer  themselves  to  the  sense,  are  the 
objects  of  the  affections,  but  the  very  actions  themselves,  and  the  affec- 
tions of  pity,  kindness,  and  gratitude,  and  their  contraries,  being  brought 
into  the  mind  by  relit ction,  become  objects.  So  that,  by  means  of  this 
itJJeeted  sense,  there  arises  another  kind  of  affection  towards  these  affec- 
tions themselves,  which  have  been  already  telt,  and  are  now  become  the 
subject  of  a  new  liking  or  dislike.'  What  this  *  moral  sense'  approves  is 
benevolence,  and  when  its  approval  has  been  acted  upon,  by  subjecting 
the  selfish  affections,  '  virtue '  is  attained. 


SUPREMACY    OF   CONSCIENCE.  163 

being  two  otlier  parts,  namely,  (1)  Benevoleuoe  and  Self-love, 
and  (2)  the  particular  Appetites  and  Passions,  why  are  they 
not  all  equally  natural,  and  all  equally  to  be  followed  ? 

This  leads  to  an  inquiry  into  the  meanings  of  the  word 
Nature. 

First,  Nature  may  mean  any  prompting  whatever ;  angor 
and  affection  are  equally  natural,  as  being  equally  part  of  us. 

Secondly,  it  may  mean  our  strongest  passion,  what  most 
frequently  prevails  with  us  and  shows  our  individual  cha- 
racters.    In  this  sense,  vice  may  be  natural. 

Bat,  thirdly,  we  may  reclaim  against  thosa  two  meanings, 
and  that  on  the  authority  both  of  the  Apostle  Paul  and  of  the 
ancient  sages,  and  declare  that  the  proper  meaning  of  follow- 
ing nature  is  following  Conscience,  or  that  superior  principle 
in  every  man  which  bears  testimony  to  its  own  supremacy. 
It  is  by  this  faculty,  natural  to  a  man,  that  be  is  a  moral 
agent,  a  law  to  himself. 

Men  may  act  according  to  their  strongest  principle,  and 
yet  violate  their  nature,  as  when  a  man,  urged  by  present  gra- 
tification, incurs  certain  ruin.  The  violation  of  nature,  in  this 
instance,  may  be  expressed  as  disproportion. 

There  is  thus  a  difference  in  kind  between  passions;  self- 
love  is  superior  to  temporary  appetite. 

Passion  or  Appetite  means  a  tendency  towards  certain 
objects  with  no  regard  to  any  other  objects.  Reflection  or 
Conscience  steps  in  to  protect  the  interests  that  these  would 
lead  us  to  sacrifice.  Surely,  therefore,  this  would  be  enough 
to  constitute  superiority.  Any  other  passion  taking  the  lead 
is  a  case  of  usurpation. 

AVe  can  hardly  form  a  notion  of  Conscience  without  this 
idea  of  superiority.  Had  it  might,  as  it  has  right,  it  would 
govern  the  world. 

Were  there  no  such  supremacy,  all  actions  would  be  on  an 
equal  footing.  Impiety,  profaneness,  and  blasphemy  would 
be  as  suitable  as  reverence  ;  parricide  would  justify  itself  by 
the  right  of  the  strongest. 

Hence  human  nature  is  made  up  of  a  number  of  propen- 
sities in  union  with  this  ruling  principle  ;  and  as,  in  civil 
government,  the  constitution  is  infringed  by  strength  pre- 
vailing over  authority,  so  the  nature  of  man  is  violated 
when  the  lower  faculties  triumph  over  conscience.  Man 
has  a  rule  of  right  within,  if  he  will  honestly  attend  to 
it.  Out  of  this  arrangement,  also,  springs  Obligation  ;  the 
law  of  conscience  is  the  law  of  our  nature.      It  carries  ita 


164:  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 

authority  with  it;  it  is  the  guide  assigned  bj  the  Author  of 
our  nature. 

He  then  replies  to  the  question.  '  Why  should  we  be  con- 
cerned about  anything  out  of  or  beyond  ourselves  ?'  Suppos- 
ing we  do  possess  in  our  nature  a  regard  to  the  well-being  of 
others,  why  may  we  not  set  that  aside  as  being  in  our  way 
to  our  own  good. 

The  answer  is,  We  cannot  obtain  our  own  good  without 
having  regard  to  others,  and  undergoing  the  restraints  pre- 
scribed by  morality.  There  is  seldom  any  inconsistency 
between  our  duty  and  our  interest.  Self-love,  in  the  present 
world,  coincides  with  virtue.  If  there  are  any  exceptions,  all 
will  be  set  right  in  the  final  distribution  of  things.  Conscience 
and  self-love,  if  we  understand  our  true  happiness,  always 
lead  us  the  same  way. 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  celebrated  '  Three  Sermons 
on  Human  Nature.'  The  radical  defect  of  the  whole  scheme 
lies  in  its  Psychological  basis.  Because  we  have,  as  mature 
human  beings,  in  civilized  society,  a  principle  of  action 
called  Conscience,  which  we  recognize  as  distinct  from  Self- 
love  and  Benevolence,  as  well  as  from  the  Appetites  and  Pas- 
sions, Butler  would  make  us  believe  that  this  is,  from  the 
first,  a  distinct  principle  of  our  nature.  The  proper  reply  is 
to  analyze  Conscience ;  showing  at  the  same  time,  from  its 
very  great  discrepancies  in  different  minds,  that  it  is  a  growth, 
or  product,  corresponding  to  the  education  and  the  circum- 
stances of  each,  although  of  course  involving  the  common 
elements  of  the  mind. 

In  his  Sermons  on  Compassion  (V.,  YI.),  he  treats  this  as 
one  of  the  Affections  in  his  second  group  of  the  Feelings 
(Appetites,  Passions,  and  Aff'ections)  ;  vindicates  its  existence 
against  Hobbes,  who  treated  it  as  an  indirect  mode  of  self- 
regard  ;  and  shows  its  importance  in  human  life,  as  an  adjunct 
to  Rational  Benevolence  and  Conscience. 

In  discussing  Benevolence  (Sermon  XII.)  Butler's  object  ia 
to  show  that  it  is  not  ultimately  at  variance  with  Self-love. 
In  the  introductory  observations,  he  adverts  to  the  historical 
fact,  that  vice  and  folly  take  different  turns  in  diff'erent  ages, 
and  that  the  peculiarity  of  his  own  age  is  '  to  profess  a  con- 
tracted spirit,  and  greater  regards  to  self-interest'  than 
formerly.  He  accommodates  his  preaching  of  virtue  to  this 
characteristic  of  his  time,  and  promises  that  there  shall  be  all 
possible  concessions  made  to  the  f<xvourite  j^asslon. 

His  mode  of  arguing  is  still  the  same  as  in  the  sermons  on 


CONNEXION  OF  BENEVOLENCE  WITH  HAPPINESS.        165 

Hurnan  Nature.  Self-love  does  not  compreliend  our  whole 
being  ;  it  is  only  one  principle  among  many.  It  is  characterized 
by  a  suhjedive  end,  the  j'eelhig  of  happiness  ;  but  we  have  other 
ends  of  the  objective  kind,  the  ends  of  our  appetites,  passions, 
and  affections — food,  injury  to  another,  good  to  another,  &c. 
I'be  total  happiness  of  onr  being  includes  all  our  ends.  Self-love 
attends  only  to  one  interest,  and  if  we  are  too  engrossed  with 
that,  we  may  sacrifice  other  interests,  and  narrow  the  sphere 
of  our  happiness.  A  certain  disengagement  of  mind  is  neces- 
sary to  enjoyment,  and  the  intensity  of  pursuit  interferes  with 
this.  [This  is  a  true  remark,  but  misapplied ;  external  pur- 
suit may  be  so  intense  as  nearly  to  do  away  with  subjective 
consciousness,  and  therefore  with  pleasure ;  but  this  applies 
more  to  objective  ends, — wealth,  the  interest  of  others — than 
to  self-love,  which  is  in  its  nature  subjective.] 

Now,  what  applies  to  the  Appetites  and  Affections  applies 
to  Benevolence  ;  it  is  a  distinct  motive  or  urgency,  and  should 
have  its  scope  like  every  other  propensity,  in  order  to  hap- 
piness. 

Such  is  his  reasoning,  grounded  on  his  peculiar  Psycho- 
logy. He  then  adduces  the  ordinary  arguments  to  show,  that 
seeking  the  good  of  others  is  a  positive  gratification  in  itself, 
and  fraught  with  pleasure  in  its  consequences. 

In  summary,  Butler's  views  stand  thus  : — 

I. — His  Standard  of  Right  and  Wrong  is  the  subjective 
Faculty,  called  by  him  Reflection,  or  Conscience.  He  assumes 
such  an  amount  of  uniformity  in  human  beings,  in  regard  to 
this  Faculty,  as  to  settle  all  questions  that  arise. 

II. — His  Psychological  scheme  is  the  threefold  division  of 
the  mind  already  brought  out ;  Conscience  being  one  division, 
and  a  distinct  and  primitive  element  of  our  constitution. 

He  has  no  Psychology  of  the  Will ;  nor  does  he  anywhere 
inquire  into  the  problem  of  Liberty  and  Necessity. 

He  maintains  the  existence  of  Disinterested  Benevolence, 
by  saying  that  Disinterested  action,  as  opposed  to  direct  self- 
regard,  is  a  much  wider  fact  of  our  mental  system,  than  the 
regai'd  to  the  welfare  of  others.  We  have  seen  that  this  is  a 
Ttiere  stroke  of  ingenuity,  and  owes  its  plausible  appearance 
to  his  making  our  associated  ends  the  primary  ends  of  our 
being. 

in. — With  regard  to  the  Snmmum  Bonum,  or  the  theory 
of  Happiness,  he  holds  that  men  cannot  be  happy  by  the  pur- 
suit of  mere  self;  but  must  give  way  to  their  benevolent  im- 
pulses as  well,  all  under  the  guidance  of  conscience.    In  short, 


166  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 

virtue  is  happiness,  even  in  this  world  ;  and,  if  there  be  any 
exception  to  the  rule,  it  will  be  rectified  in  another  world. 
This  is  in  fiict  the  Platonic  view.  Men  are  not  to  pursue 
happiness  ;  that  would  be  to  fall  into  the  narrow  rut  of  self- 
love,  and  would  be  a  failure ;  they  are  to  pursue  virtue, 
including  the  good  of  others,  and  the  greatest  happiness  will 
ensue  to  each. 

It  is  a  remarkable  indication  of  the  spirit  of  Butler's  age, 
or  of  his  estimate  of  it,  that  he  would  never  venture  to  require 
of  any  one  a  single  act  of  uncompensated  self-sacrifice. 

IV. — The  substance  of  the  Moral  Code  of  Butler  is  in  no 
respect  peculiar  to  him.  He  gives  no  classification  of  our 
duties.  His  means  and  inducements  to  virtue  have  just  been 
remarked  upon. 

V. — The  relationship  of  Ethics  to  Politics  and  to  Theology 
needs  no  remark. 

FRANCIS  HUTCHESON.        [1694-1747.] 

Hutcheson's  views  are  to  be  found  in  his  '  Inquiry  into 
the  Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue,'  his  '  Treatise  on  the  Pas- 
sions,' and  his  posthumous  work,  '  A  System  of  Moral  Philo- 
sophy.' The  last-mentioned,  as  the  completest  exposition  of 
his  Ethics,  Speculative  and  Practical,  is  followed  here. 

There  are  three  books  ;  the  first  treating  of  Human  Na- 
ture and  Happiness ;  the  second,  of  Laws  of  Nature  and 
Duties,  previous  to  Civil  Government  and  other  adventitious 
states  ;  the  third,  of  Civil  Polity. 

In  Book  I.,  Chap.  I.,  Hutcheson  states  that  the  aim  of 
Moral  Philosophy  is  to  point  out  the  coui'se  of  action  that  will 
best  promote  the  highest  happiness  and  perfection  of  men,  by 
the  light  of  human  nature  and  to  the  exclusion  of  revelation; 
thus  to  indicate  the  rules  of  conduct  that  make  up  the  Law  of 
Nature.  Happiness,  the  end  of  this  art,  being  the  state  of 
the  mind  arising  from  its  several  grateful  perceptions  or 
modifications,  the  natural  course  of  the  inquiry  is  to  consider 
the  various  human  powers,  perceptions,  and  actions,  and  then 
to  compare  them  so  as  to  find  what  really  constitutes  happi- 
ness, and  how  it  may  be  attained.  The  principles  that  first 
display  themselves  in  childhood  are  the  external  senses, 
with  some  small  powers  of  spontaneous  motion,  intro- 
ducing to  the  niiud  perceptions  of  pleasure  and  pain,  which 
becoming  forthwith  tlie  object  of  desire  and  aversion,  are 
our  first  notions  of  natural  good  and  evil.  Next  to  Ideaa 
of  Sensation,  we  acquire  Concomitant  ideas  of  Sensation  from 


PRIMARY  FEELINGS.  167 

two  or  more  senses  together — number,  extension,  &c.  Ideas 
of  consciousness  or  reflection,  which  is  another  natural  power 
of  perception,  complete  the  list  of  the  materials  of  knowledge  ; 
to  which,  when  the  powers  of  judging  and  reasojiing  are  added, 
all  the  main  acts  of  the  understanding  are  given.  There  are 
still,  however,  some  finer  perceptions,  that  may  be  left  over 
until  the  will  is  disposed  of. 

Under  the  head  of  Will,  he  notes  first  the  facts  of  Desire 
and  Aversion,  being  new  motions  of  the  soul,  distinct  from, 
though  arising  out  of,  sensations,  perceptions,  and  judgments. 
To  these  it  is  common  to  add  Joy  and  Sorrow,  arising  in  con- 
nexion with  desire,  though  they  partake  more  of  sensations 
than  of  volitions.  Acts  of  the  will  are  selfish  or  benevolent, 
according  as  one's  own  good,  or  (as  often  really  in  fact  hap- 
pens) the  good  of  others  is  pursued.  Two  calm  natural  de- 
terminations of  the  will  are  to  be  conceded  ;  the  one  an  inva- 
riable constant  impulse  towards  one's  own  highest  perfection 
and  happiness ;  the  other  towards  the  universal  happiness  of 
others,  when  the  whole  system  of  beings  is  regarded  without 
prejudice,  and  in  the  absence  of  the  notion  that  their  hap- 
piness interferes  with  our  own.  There  are  also  turbulent 
passions  and  appetites,  whose  end  is  their  simple  gratifica- 
tion ;  whereupon  the  violence  and  uneasiness  cease.  Some 
are  selfish — hunger,  lust,  power,  fame;  some  benevolent — pity, 
gratitude,  parental  aftection,  &c. ;  others  may  be  of  either 
kind — anger,  envy,  &c.  In  none  of  them  is  there  any  refer- 
ence in  the  mind  to  the  greatest  happiness  of  self  or  others  ; 
and  that  they  stand  so  often  in  real  opposition  to  the  calm 
motions,  is  suflBcient  proof  of  their  distinct  character,  e.g.,  the 
opposition  of  lust  and  calm  regard  for   one's  highest  interest. 

In  Chapter  II.,  he  takes  up  some  finer  powers  of  per- 
ception, and  some  other  natural  determinations  of  the  will. 
Bound  up  with  seeing  and  hearing  are  certain  other  powers 
of  perception  or  senses  — Beauty,  Imitation,  Harmony,  Design, 
summed  up  by  Addison  under  the  name  of  Imagination, 
and  all  natural  sources  of  pleasure.  The  two  grateful 
perceptions  of  Novelty  and  Grandeur  may  be  added  to  the 
list  of  natural  determinations  or  senses  of  pleasure.  To 
attempt  to  reduce  the  natural  sense  of  Beauty  to  the  discern- 
ment of  real  or  apparent  usefulness  is  hopeless.  The  next 
sense  of  the  soul  noted  is  the  Sympathetic,  in  its  two  Phases 
of  Pity  or  Compassion  and  Congratulation.  This  is  fellow- 
feeling  on  apprehending  the  state  of  others,  and  proneness  to 
relieve,  without  any  thought  of  our  own  advantage,  as  seen 


168  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— HUTCHESON. 

in  children.  Pity  is  stronger  than  congratulation,  because, 
whether  for  ourselves  or  others,  the  desire  to  repel  evil  is 
stronger  than  to  pursue  good.  Sympathy  extends  to  all  the 
aflfections  and  passions  ;  it  greatly  subserves  the  grand  deter- 
mination of  the  soul  towards  universal  happiness. 

Other  finer  senses  have  actions  of  men  for  their  objects, 
there  being  a  general  determination  of  the  soul  to  exercise 
all  its  active  powers, — a  universal  impulse  to  action,  bodily 
and  intellectual.  In  all  such  action  there  is  real  pleasure,  but 
the  grand  source  of  human  happiness  is  the  power  of  per- 
ceiving the  moral  notions  of  actions  and  characters.  This, 
the  Moral  Sense,  falls  to  be  fully  discussed  later.  Distinct 
from  our  moral  sense  is  the  Sense  of  Honour  or  Shame,  when 
we  are  praised  or  condemned  by  others.  The  Sense  of 
Decency  or  Digyiity,  when  the  mind  perceives  excellence  of 
bodily  and  mental  powers  in  ourselves  or  others,  is  also 
natural,  and  distinct  from  the  moral  sense.  Some  would 
allow  a  natural  Sense  of  the  Ridiculous  in  objects  or  events. 
There  follow  some  remarks  on  the  tendency  to  associate 
perceptions.  In  addition  also  to  the  natural  propen- 
sity towards  action,  there  is  a  tendency  in  repeated  action 
to  become  Habit,  whereby  our  powers  are  greatly  increased. 
Habit  and  Customs  can  raise,  however,  no  new  ideas  beyond 
the  sentiments  naturally  excited  by  the  original  actions. 

Sexual  desire,  wisely  postponed  by  nature  beyond  the 
earliest  years,  does  not,  in  man,  end  in  mere  sensual  pleasure, 
but  involves  a  natural  liking  of  beauty  as  an  indication  of 
temper  and  manners,  whereupon  grow  up  esteem  and  love. 
Mankind  have  a  universal  desire  of  offspring,  and  love  for 
their  young ;  also  an  affection,  though  weaker,  for  all  blood- 
relations.  They  have,  further,  a  natural  impulse  to  society 
with  their  fellows,  as  an  immediate  principle,  and  are  not 
driven  to  associate  only  by  indigence.  All  the  other  princi- 
ples already  mentioned,  having  little  or  no  exercise  in  solitude, 
would  bring  them  together,  even  without  family  ties.  Patriot- 
ism and  love  of  country  are  acquired  in  the  midst  of  social 
order. 

Natural  Religion  inevitably  springs  up  in  the  best  minds 
at  sight  of  the  benevolent  order  of  the  world,  and  is  soon 
diffused  among  all.  The  principles  now  enumerated  will 
be  found,  though  in  varying  proportions,  among  all  men  not 
plainly  monstrous  by  accident,  &c. 

Chapter  HI.  treats  of  the  Ultimate  Determinations  of  the 
Will  and  Benevolent  Affections.     The  question  now  is  to  find 


BENETOLENCE.  169 

some  order  and  subordination  among  the  powers  that  have 
been  cited,  and  to  discover  the  ultimate  ends  of  action,  about 
which  there  is  no  reasoning.  He  notices  various  systems  that 
make  calm  self-love  the  one  leading  principle  of  action,  and 
speciall}'-  the  system  that,  allowing  the  existence  of  particular 
disinterested  affections,  puts  the  self-satisfaction  felt  in  yield- 
ing to  the  generous  sentiments  above  all  other  kinds  of  enjoy- 
ments. But,  he  asks,  is  there  not  also  a  calm  determinatio7i 
towards  the  good  of  others,  without  reference  to  private 
interest  of  any  kind  ?  In  the  case  of  particular  desires,  which 
all  necessarily  involve  an  uneasy  seu-ation  until  they  are 
gratified,  it  is  no  proof  of  their  bein^-  selfish  that  their  gratifi- 
cation gives  the  joy  of  success  and  stops  uneasiness.  On  the 
other  hand,  to  desire  the  welfare  of  others  in  the  interest  of 
ourselves  is  not  benevolence  nor  virtue.  What  we  have  to 
seek  are  benevolent  affections  terminating  ultimately  in  the 
good  of  others,  and  constituted  by  nature  (either  alone,  or 
mayhap  corroborated  by  some  views  of  interest)  '  the  imme- 
diate cause  of  moral  approbation.'  Now,  anything  to  be  had 
from  men  could  not  raise  within  us  such  afiections,  or  make 
us  careful  about  anything  beyond  external  deportment.  Nor 
could  rewards  from  God,  or  the  wish  for  self-approbation, 
create  such  affections,  although,  on  the  supposition  of  their 
existence,  these  may  well  help  to  foster  them.  It  is  benevolent 
dispositions  that  we  morally  approve ;  but  dispositions  are  not 
to  be  raised  by  will.  Moreover,  they  are  often  found  where 
there  has  been  least  thought  of  cultivating  them ;  and,  some- 
times, in  the  form  of  parental  afiection,  gratitude,  &c.,  they 
are  followed  so  little  for  the  sake  of  honour  and  reward,  that 
though  their  absence  is  condemned,  they  are  themselves  hardly 
accounted  virtuous  at  all.  He  then  rebuts  the  idea  that  gene- 
rous aiFections  are  selfish,  because  by  sijmpaihy  we  make  the  • 
pleasures  and  pains  of  others  our  own.  Sympathy  is  a  real 
fact,  but  has  regard  only  to  the  distress  or  sufiering  beheld  or 
imagined  in  others,  whereas  generous  affection  is  varied  to- 
ward different  characters.  Sympathy  can  never  explain  the 
immediate  ardour  of  our  good- will  towards  the  morally  ex- 
cellent character,  or  the  eagerness  of  a  dying  man  for  the 
prosperity  of  his  children  and  friends.  Having  thus  accepted 
the  existence  of  purely  disinterested  affections,  and  divided 
them  as  before  into  calm  and  turbulent,  he  puts  the  question, 
Whether  is  the  selfish  or  benevolent  principle  to  yield  in  case 
of  opposition  ?  And  although  it  appears  that,  as  a  fact,  the 
universal  happiness  is  preferred  to  the  individual  in  the  order 
8 


170  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 

of  the  world  by  the  Deity,  tliis  is  nothing,  unless  by  some 
determination  of  the  soul  we  are  made  to  comply  with  the 
Divine  intentions.  If  by  the  desire  of  reward,  it  is  selfishness 
still ;  if  by  the  desire,  following  upon  the  sight,  of  moral  ex- 
cellence, then  there  must  necessarily  exist  as  its  object  some 
determination  of  the  will  involving  supreme  moral  excellence, 
otherwise  there  will  be  no  way  of  deciding  between  particular 
affections.  This  leads  on  to  the  consideration  of  the  Moral 
Faculty. 

But,  in  the  beginning  of  Chapter  IV.,  he  first  rejects  one  by 
one  these  various  accouats  of  the  reason  of  our  approbation 
of  moral  conduct : — pleasure  by  sympathy  ;  pleasure  through 
the  moral  sense ;  notion  of  advantage  to  the  agent,  or  to  the 
approver,  and  this  direct  or  imagined ;  tendency  to  procure 
honour ;  conformity  to  law,  to  truth,  fitness,  congruity,  &c. ; 
also  education,  association,  &c.  He  then  asserts  a  natural 
and  immediate  determination  in  man  to  approve  certain  affec- 
tions and  actions  consequent  on  them  ;  or  a  natural  sense  of 
immediate  excellence  in  them,  not  referred  to  any  other  quality 
perceivable  b}'-  our  other  senses,  or  by  reasoning.  It  is  a  sense 
not  dependent  on  bodily  organs,  but  a  settled  determination 
of  the  soul.  It  is  a  sense,  in  like  manner  as,  with  every  one  of 
our  powers — voice,  designing,  motion,  reasoning,  there  is  bound 
up  a  taste,  sense,  or  relish,  discerning  and  recommending  their 
proper  exercise ;  but  superior  to  all  these,  because  the  power 
of  moral  action  is  superior.  It  can  be  trained  like  any  other 
sense — hearing,  harmony,  &c. — so  as  to  be  brought  to  approve 
finer  objects,  for  instance  the  general  happiness  rather  than 
mere  motions  of  pity.  That  it  is  meant  to  control  and  regu- 
late all  the  other  powers  is  matter  of  immediate  consciousness ; 
we  must  ever  prefer  moi^al  good  to  the  good  apprehended  by 
the  other  perceptive  powers.  For  while  every  other  good  is 
lessened  by  th%  sacrifices  made  to  gain  it,  moral  good  is 
thereby  increased  and  relished  the  more.  The  objects  of 
moral  approbation  are  primarily  affections  of  the  will,  but, 
all  experience  shows,  only  such  as  tend  to  the  happiness 
of  others,  and  the  moral  perfection  of  the  mind  possessing 
them.  There  are,  however,  many  degrees  of  approbation ; 
and,  when  we  put  aside  qualities  that  approve  themselves 
merely  to  the  sense  of  decency  or  dignity,  and  also  the 
calm  desire  of  private  good,  which  is  indifferent,  being 
neither  virtuous  nor  vicious,  the  gradation  of  qualities, 
morally  approved  may  be  given  thus:  (1)  Dignified  abilities 
(pursuit  of  sciences,  &c.),  showing  a  taste  above  sensuality 


MORAL   FACULTY.  171 

and  selfishness.     (2)    Qaalities  immediately  connected  with 
virtuous  affections — ^candour,  veracity,  fortitude,  sense  of  hon- 
our.    (3)  The  kind  affections  themselves,  and  the  more  as 
they  are  fi.xed  rather  than  passionate,  and  extensive  rather 
than  narrow  ;  highest  of  all  in  the  form  of  universal  good- will 
to  all.     (4)   The  disposition  to  desire  and  love  moral  excel- 
lence, whether  observed  in  ourselves  or  others — in  short,  true 
piety  towards  God.     He  goes   on  to  give  a  similar  scale  of 
moral  turpitude.     A^-ain,  puffing  aside  the  indifferent  quali- 
ties, and  also  those  that  merely  make  people  despicable  and 
prove  them  insensible,   he   cites — (1)   the  gratification   of  a 
narrow  kind  of  affection  when  the  public  good  might  have  been 
served.     (2)  Acts  detrimental  to  the  public,  done  under  fear 
of  personal  ill,  or  great  temptation.     (3)  Sudden  angry  pas- 
sions   (especially    when  grown   into  habits)   causing   injury. 
(4)  Injury  caused  by  selfish  and  sensual   passions.     (5)  De- 
liberate injur}"  springing  from  calm  selfishness.      (6)   Impiety 
towards  the  Deity,  as  known  to  be  good.    The  worst  conceivable 
disposition,   a    fixed,   unprovoked   original   malice,   is  hardly 
found  among  men.     In  the  end  of  the  chapter,  he  re-asserts 
the  supremacy  of  the  moral  faculty,  and  of  the  principle  of  pure 
benevolence  that  it  involves.     The  inconsistency  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  self-love  and  benevolence  when  it  arises,  is  reduced 
in  favour  of  the  second  by  the  intervention  of  the  moral  sense, 
which  does  not  hold  out  future  rewards  and  pleasures  of  self- 
approbation,  but  decides  for  the  generous  part  by  '  an  imme- 
diate undefinable  perception.'     So  at  least,  if  human  nature 
were  properly  cultivated,  although  it  is  true  that  in  common 
life  men  are  wont  to  follow  their  particular  affections,  generous 
and  selfish,  without  thought  of  extensive  benevolence  or  calm 
self-love  ;  and  it  is  found   necessary  to  counterbalance  the 
advantage   that  the  selfish  principles  gain  in  early  life,   by 
propping  up  the   moral  faculty  with   considerations    of  the 
surest  mode  of  attaining  the  highest  private  happiness,  and 
with  views  of  the  moral  administration  of  the  world  by  the 
Deity. 

But  before  passing  to  these  subjects,  he  devotes  Chapter  V, 
to  the  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Moral  Sense,  and 
first  from  the  Sense  of  Honour.  This,  the  grateful  sensation 
when  we  are  morally  approved  and  praised,  with  the  reverse 
when  we  are  censured,  he  argues  in  his  usual  manner,  involves 
no  thought  of  private  interest.  However  the  facts  may 
stand,  it  is  always  under  the  impression  of  actions  being 
moral   or   immoral,    that   the    sense    of  honour  works.       In 


172  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUTCH  EBON. 

defence  of  the  doctiine  of  a  moral  sense,  against  the  arga- 
ment  from  the  varying  morality  of  different  nations,  he 
says  it  would  only  prove  the  sense  not  uniform,  as  the 
palate  is  not  uniform  in  all  men.  Bat  the  moral  sense  is 
really  more  uniform.  For,  in  every  nation,  it  is  the  bene- 
volent actions  and  affections  that  are  approved,  and  wher- 
ever there  is  an  error  of  fact,  it  is  the  reason,  not  the 
moral  sense,  that  is  at  fault.  There  are  no  cases  of  nations 
where  moral  approval  is  restricted  to  the  pursuit  of  private 
interest.  The  chief  causes  of  variety  of  moral  approbation 
are  three  :  (1)  Different  notions  of  happiness  and  the  means 
of  promoting  it,  whereby  much  that  is  peculiar  in  national 
customs,  &c.,  is  explained,  without  reflecting  upon  the  moral 
sense.  (2)  The  larger  or  more  confined  field  on  which  men 
consider  the  tendencies  of  their  actions — sect,  party,  country, 
&G.  (3)  Different  opinions  about  the  divine  commands, 
which  are  allowed  to  over-ride  the  moral  sense.  The  moral 
sense  does  not  imply  innate  complex  ideas  of  the  several 
actions  and  their  tendencies,  whicb  must  be  discovered  by 
observation  and  reasoning  ;  it  is  concerned  only  about  inward 
affections  and  dispositions,  of  which  the  effects  may  be  very 
various.  In  closing  this  part  of  his  subject,  he  considers  that 
all  that  is  needed  for  the  formation  of  morals,  has  been  given, 
because  from  the  moral  faculty  and  benevolent  affection  all 
the  special  laws  of  nature  can  be  deduced.  But  because  the 
moral  faculty  and  benevolence  have  difficulty  in  making  way 
against  the  selfish  principles  so  early  rooted  in  man,  it  is 
needful  to  strengthen  these  foundations  of  morality  by  the 
consideration  of  the  nature  of  the  highest  happiness. 

With  Chapter  VI.  accordingly  he  enters  on  the  discussion 
of  Happiness,  forming  the  second  half  of  his  first  book.  The 
supreme  happiness  of  any  being  is  the  full  enjoyment  of  all  the 
gratifications  its  nature  desires  or  is  capable  of;  but,  in  case  of 
their  being  inconsistent,  the  constant  gratification  of  the  higher, 
intenser,  and  more  durable  pleasures  is  to  be  preferred. 

In  Chapter  VII.,  he  therefore  directly  compares  the  various 
kinds  of  enjoyment  and  misery,  in  order  to  know  what  of 
the  first  must  be  surrendered,  and  what  of  the  second  en  ^ 
dured,  in  aiming  at  highest  attainable  happiness.  Pleasures 
the  same  in  kind  are  preferable,  according  as  they  are  more 
intense  and  enduring;  of  a  different  kind,  as  they  are  more 
enduring  and  dignified,  a  fact  decided  at  once  by  our  imms- 
diate  sense  of  dignity  or  worth.  In  the  great  diversity  of 
tastes  regarding  pleasures,  he  supposes  the  ultimate  decision 


HAPPINESS.  173 

as  to  tlie  value  of  pleasures  to  rest  with  the  possessors  of  finer 
perceptive  powers,  but  adds,  that  good  men  are  the  best 
judges,  because  possessed  of  fuller  experience  than  the  vicious, 
whose  tastes,  senses,  and  appetites  have  lost  their  natural 
vigour  through  one-sided  indulgence.  He  then  goes  thi'ough 
the  various  pleasures,  depreciating  the  pleasures  of  the  palate 
on  the  positive  side,  and  sexual  pleasure  as  transitory  and 
enslaving  when  pursued  for  itself;  the  sensual  enjoyments 
are,  notmthstanding,  quite  proper  within  due  limits,  and 
then,  perhaps,  are  at  their  highest.  The  pleasures  of  the 
ima'/iuatlon,  knowledge,  &g.,  differ  from  the  last  in  not  being 
preceded  by  an  uneasy  sensation  to  be  removed,  and  are 
clearly  more  dignified  and  endurable,  being  the  proper  exer- 
cise of  the  soul  when  it  is  not  moved  by  the  affections  of 
social  virtue,  or  the  offices  of  rational  piety.  The  sijinpathetio 
pleasures  are  very  extensive,  very  intense,  and  may  be  of  very- 
long  duration ;  they  are  superior  to  all  the  foregoing,  if  there 
is  a  hearty  affection,  and  are  at  their  height  along  with  the 
feeling  of  universal  good  will.  Moral  Enjoyments,  from  the 
consciousness  of  good  affections  and  actions,  when  by  close 
reflexion  we  have  attained  just  notions  of  virtue  and  merit, 
rank  highest  of  all,  as  well  in  dignity  as  in  duration.  The 
pleasures  of  honour,  when  our  conduct  is  approved,  are  also 
among  the  highest,  and  when,  as  commonly  happens,  they  are 
conjoined  wdth  the  last  two  classes,  it  is  tha  height  of  human 
bliss.  The  pleasures  of  mirth,  such  as  they  are,  fall  in  best 
with  virtue,  and  so,  too,  the  pleasures  of  wealth  and  jjower^ 
in  themselves  unsatisfying.  Anger,  malice,  revenge,  &c., 
are  not  without  their  uses,  and  give  momentary  pleasure  as 
removing  an  uneasiness  from  the  subject  of  them ;  but  they 
are  not  to  be  compared  with  the  sympathetic  feelings,  because 
their  effects  cannot  long  be  regarded  with  satisfaction.  His 
general  conclusion  is,  that  as  the  highest  personal  satisfaction 
is  had  in  the  most  benevolent  dispositions,  the  same  course  of 
conduct  is  recommended  alike  by  the  two  great  determinations 
of  our  nature,  towards  our  own  good  and  the  good  of  others. 
He  then  compares  the  several  sorts  of  pain,  which,  he  says, 
are  not  necessarily  in  the  proportion  of  the  corresponding 
pleasures.  Allowing  the  great  misery  of  bodily  pain,  he  yefc 
argues  that,  at  the  worst,  it  is  not  to  be  compared  for  a 
moment  to  the  pain  of  the  worst  wrong- doing.  The  imagi- 
nation, great  as  are  its  pleasures,  cannot  cause  much  pain. 
The  sympathetic  and  moral  pains  of  remorse  and  infamy  aro 
the  worst  of  all. 


174:  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 

In  Chapter  VIII.  the  various  Tempers  and  Characters  are 
compared  in  point  of  happiness  or  misery.  Even  the  private 
affections,  in  due  moderation,  promote  the  general  good ;  but 
that  system  is  the  best  possible  where,  along  with  this,  the 
generous  affections  also  promote  private  good.  No  natural 
affection  is  absolutely  evil ;  the  evil  of  excess  in  narrow  gene- 
rous affection  lies  in  the  want  of  proportion ;  in  calm  extensive 
good  will  there  can  be  no  excess.  The  social  and  moral  enjoy- 
ments, and  those  of  honour,  being  the  highest,  the  affections  and 
actions  that  procure  them  are  the  chief  means  of  happiness ; 
amid  human  mischances,  however,  they  need  support  from  a 
trust  in  Providence.  The  unkind  affections  and  passions 
(anger,  &c.)  are  uneasy  even  when  innocent,  and  never  were 
intended  to  become  permanent  dispositions.  The  narrow  kind 
of  affections  are  all  that  can  be  expected  from  the  majority  of 
men,  and  are  very  good,  if  only  they  are  not  the  occasion  of 
unjust  partiality  to  some,  or,  worse,  ill-grounded  aversion  to 
others.  The  rest  of  the  chapter  is  taken  up  in  painting  the 
misery  of  the  selfish  passions  when  in  excess — love  of  lil'e, 
sensual  pleasure,  desire  of  power,  glory,  and  ease.  He  has 
still  one  '  object  of  affection  to  every  rational  mind  '  that  he 
must  de?l  with  before  he  is  done  with  considering  the  question 
of  highest  happiness.  This  is  the  Deity,  or  the  Mind  that 
presides  in  the  Universe. 

Chaj.ter  IX.,  at  great  length,  discusses  the  first  part  of  the 
subject- -the  framing  of  primary  ideas  regarding  the  Divine 
Nature.  He  proves  the  existence  of  an  original  mind  from 
design,  '%c.,  in  the  world  ;  he  then  finds  this  mind  to  be  bene- 
volent, on  occasion  of  which  he  has  to  deal  with,  the  great 
question  of  Evil,  giving  reasons  for  its  existence,  discovering 
its  usffi,  narrowing  its  range  as  compared  with  good,  and 
finally  reducing  it  by  the  consideration  and  proof  of  immor- 
tality ;  lie  ends  by  setting  forth  the  other  attributes  of  God — 
providence,  holiness,  justice,  &c. 

In  Chapter  X.,  he  considers  the  Affections,  Duty,  and 
Worship  to  be  exercised  towards  God.  The  moral  sense  quite 
specially  enjoins  worship  of  the  Deity,  internal  and  external  ; 
internal  by  lo^t;  and  trust  and  gratitude,  &c.,  external  by 
praj'er,  praise,  &c.  [He  seems  to  ascribe  to  prayer  nothing 
beyond  a  subjective  efficacy.]  In  the  acknowledgment  of  God 
is  highest  happiness,  and  the  highest  exercise  of  the  moral 
faculty. 

In  Chapter  XT.,  he  closes  the  whole  book  with  remarks 
on  the  Supreme  Happiness  of  our  Nature,  which  he  makes 


CIRCUMSTANCES   AFFECTING   MORAL  JUDGMENTS.       175 

to  consist  in  the  perfect  exercise  of  the  nobler  virtues,  espe- 
cially love  and  resignation  to  God,  and  of  all  the  inferior 
virtues  consistent  with  the  superior  ;  also  in  external  pros- 
perity, so  far  as  virtue  allows.  The  moral  sense,  and  the 
truest  regard  for  our  own  interest,  thus  recommend  the  same 
course  as  the  calm,  generous  determination;  and  this  makes 
up  the  supreme  cardinal  virtue  of  Justice,  which  includes 
even  our  duties  to  God.  Temperance  in  regard  to  sensual 
enjoyments,  Fortitude  as  against  evils,  and  Prudence,  or  Con- 
sideration, in  regard  to  everything  that  solicits  our  desires, 
are  the  other  virtues;  all  subservient  to  Justice.  In  no 
station  of  life  are  men  shut  out  from  the  enjoyment  of  the 
supreme  good. 

Book  II.  is  a  deduction  of  the  more  special  laws  of  nature 
and  duties  of  life,  so  far  as  they  follow  from  the  course  of  life 
shown  above  to  be  recommended  by  God  and  nature  as  most 
lovely  and  most  advantageous ;  all  adventitious  states  or 
relations  among  men  aside.  The  three  first  chapters  are  of  a 
general  nature. 

In  Chapter  I.,  he  reviews  the  circumstances  that  increase 
the  moral  good  or  evil  of  actions.  Virtue  being  primarily  an 
affair  of  the  will  or  affections,  there  can  be  no  imputation  of 
virtue  or  vice  in  action,  unless  a  man  is  free  and  able  to  act; 
the  necessity  and  impossibility,  as  grounds  of  non-imputation, 
must,  however,  have  been  in  no  way  brought  about  by  the 
agent  himself.  In  like  manner,  he  considers  what  effects  and 
consequents  of  his  actions  are  imputable  to  the  agent ;  re- 
marking, by  the  way,  that  the  want  of  a  proper  degree  of 
good  affections  and  of  solicitude  for  the  public  good  is  morally 
evil.  He  then  discusses  the  bearing  of  ignorance  and  error, 
vincible  and  invincible,  and  specially  the  case  wherein  an 
erroneous  conscience  extenuates.  The  difficulty  of  such  cases, 
he  says,  are  due  to  ambiguity,  wherefore  he  distinguishes 
three  meanings  of  Conscience  that  are  found,  (1)  the  moral 
faculty,  (2)  the  judgment  of  the  understanding  about  the 
springs  and  effects  of  actions,  upon  which  the  moral  sense 
approves  or  condemns  them,  (3)  our  judgments  concerning 
actions  compared  with  the  law  (moral maxims,  divine  laws,  &c.). 

In  Chapter  II.,  he  lays  down  general  rules  of  judging  about 
the  morality  of  actions  from  the  affections  exciting  to  them  or 
opposing  them ;  and  first  as  to  the  degree  of  virtue  or  vice 
when  the  ability  varies ;  in  other  words,  morality  as  de- 
pendent on  the  strength  of  the  affections.  Next,  and  at  greater 
length,  morality  as  dependent  on  the  hind  of  the  affections. 


176  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 

Here  he  attempts  to  fix,  in  the  first  place,  the  degree  of 
benevolence,  as  opposed  to  private  interest,  that  is  necessary 
to  render  men  virtuous,  or  even  innocent,  in  accordance 
with  his  principle  that  there  is  implanted  in  us  a  very  high 
standard  of  necessary  goodness,  requiring  us  to  do  a  public 
benefit,  when  clear,  however  burdensome  or  hurtful  the  act 
may  be  to  ourselves ;  in  the  second  place,  the  proportion  that 
should  be  kept  between  the  narrower  and  the  more  extensive 
generous  affections,  where  he  does  not  forget  to  allow  that,  in 
general,  a  great  part  of  human  virtue  must  necessarily  lie 
within  the  narrow  range.  Then  he  gives  a  number  of  special 
rules  for  appreciating  conduct,  advising,  for  the  very  sake  of  the 
good  to  others  that  ivill  result  therefrom,  that  men  should  foster 
their  benevolence  by  the  thought  of  the  advantage  accruing 
to  themselves  here  and  hereafter  from  their  virtuous  actions ; 
and  closes  with  the  consideration  of  the  cases  wherein  actions 
can  be  imputed  to  other  than  the  agents. 

In  Chapter  III.,  he  enters  into  the  general  notion  of  Rights 
and  Laws,  and  their  divisions.  From  right  use  of  such  affec- 
tion or  actions  as  are  approved  by  the  moral  faculty  from 
their  relation  to  the  general  good,  or  the  good  of  particular 
persons  consistently  with  the  general  good,  he  distinguishes  the 
right  of  a  man  to  do,  possess,  demand,  &c.,  which  exists  when 
his  doing,  possessing,  &c.  tend  to  the  good  of  society,  or  to 
his  own,  consistent  with  the  rights  of  others  and  the  general 
good,  and  when  obstructing  him  would  have  the  contrary 
tendency.  He  proceeds  to  argue,  on  utilitarian  principles, 
that  the  rights  that  seem  to  attend  every  natural  desire  are 
perfectly  valid  when  not  against  the  public  interest,  but  never 
valid  when  they  are  against  it. 

Chapter  lY.  contains  a  discussion  upon  the  state  of  Nature, 
maintaining  that  it  is  not  a  state  of  anarchy  or  war,  but  full 
of  rights  and  obligations.  He  points  out  that  independent 
states  in  their  relation  to  one  another  are  subject  to  no  common 
authority,  and  so  are  in  a  state  of  nature.  Rights  belong  (1) 
to  individuals,  (2)  to  societies,  (3)  to  mankind  at  large.  They 
are  also  natural,  or  adventitious,  and  again  perfect  or  im- 
perfect. 

Chapter  V.  Natural  rights  are  antecedent  to  society,  such 
as  the  right  to  life,  to  liberty,  to  private  judgment,  to  mar- 
riage, &c.     They  are  of  two  kinds — perfect  and  imperfect. 

Chapter  YI.  Adventitious  rights  are  divided  into  Real 
and  Personal  (a  distinction  chiefly  of  legal  value.)  He  also 
examines  into  the  nature  and  foundation  of  private  property. 


EIGHTS   AND    LAWS.  177 

Chapter  VII.  treats  of  the  Acquisition  of  property,  Hutche- 
Bon,  as  is  usual  with  moralists,  taking  the  occupatio  of  the 
Roman  Law  as  a  basis  of  ownership.  Property  involves  the 
right  of  (1)  use,  (2)  exclusive  use,  (3)  alienation. 

Chapter  VIII.  Rights  drawn  from  property  are  such  as 
mortgages,  servitudes,  &c.,  being  rights  of  what  may  be 
called  partial  or  imperfect  ownership. 

Chapter  IX.  discusses  the  subject  of  contracts,  with  the 
general  conditions  required  for  a  valid  contract. 

Chapter  X.  Of  Veracity.  Like  most  writers  on  morals, 
Hutcheson  breaks  in  upon  the  strict  rule  of  veracity  by  various 
necessary,  but  ill-defined,  exceptions.  Expressions  of  courtesy 
and  etiquette  are  exempted,  so  also  artifices  in  war,  answers 
extorted  by  unjust  violence,  and  some  cases  of  peculiar  neces- 
sity, as  when  a  man  tells  a  lie  to  save  thousands  of  lives. 

Chapter  XI.     Oaths  and  Vows. 

Chapter  XII.  belongs  rather  to  Political  Economy.  Its 
subject  is  the  values  of  goods  in  commerce,  and  the  nature  of 
coin. 

Chapter  XIIL  enumerates  the  various  classes  of  contracts, 
following  the  Roman  Law,  taking  up  Mandatum,  Bejpositum, 
Letting  to  Hire,  Sale,  &c. 

Chapter  XIV.  adds  the  Roman  quasi-contracts. 

Chapter  XV.  Rights  arising  from  injuries  or  wrongs 
(torts).  He  condemns  duelling,  but  admits  that,  where  it  is 
established,  a  man  may,  in  soj-ie  cases,  be  justified  in  sending 
or  accepting  a  challeuge. 

Chapter  XVL  Rights  belonging  to  society  as  against  the 
individual.  The  perfect  rights  of  society  are  such  as  the 
following: — (I)  To  prevent  suicide ;  (2)  To  require  the  pro- 
ducing and  rearing  of  offspring,  at  least  so  far  as  to  tax  and 
discourage  bachelors ;  (3)  To  compel  men,  though  not 
without  compensation,  to  divulge  useful  inventions  ;  (4)  To 
compel  to  some  industry,  &c. 

Chapter  XVII.  takes  up  some  cases  where  the  ordinary 
rights  of  property  or  person  are  set  aside  by  some  overbearing 
necessity. 

Chapter  XVIII.  The  way  of  deciding  controversies  in  a 
state  of  nature  by  arbitration. 

Book  III. — Civil  Polity,  embracing  Domestic  and  Civil 
Rights. 

Chapter  I.  Marriage.  Hutcheson  considers  that  Marriage 
should  be  a  perpetual  union  upon  equal  terms,  *  and  not  such 
a  one  wherein  the  one  party  stipulates  to  himself  a  right  of 


178  ElHICAL  SYSTEMS— HUTCHESON. 

goveriJiTig  in  all  domestic  affairs,  and  the  other  promises  sub- 
jection.' He  would  allow  divorce  for  adultery,  desertion,  or 
implacable  enmity  on  either  side.  Upon  defect  of  children, 
some  sort  of  concubinage  would  be  preferable  to  divorce,  but 
leaving  to  the  woman  the  option  of  divorce  with  compensation. 
He  notices  the  misrepresentations  regarding  Plato's  scheme  of 
a  community  of  wives;  'Never  was  there  in  any  plan  less 
provision  made  for  sensual  gratification.' 

Chapter  II.  The  Rights  and  Duties  of  Parents  and  Chil- 
dren. 

Chapter  III.  The  Rights  and  Duties  of  Masters  and  Ser- 
vants. 

Chapter  TV.  discusses  the  Motives  to  constitute  Civil  Go- 
vernment. If  men  were  perfectly  wise  and  upright,  there 
would  be  no  need  for  government.  Man  is  naturally  sociable 
and  political  (^wov  TroXniKou.) 

Chapter  Y.  shows  that  the  natural  method  of  constituting 
civil  government  is  by  consent  or  social  compact. 

Chapter  YI.  The  Forms  of  Government,  with  their  respec- 
tive advantages  and  disadvantages. 

Chapter  YII.  How  far  the  Rights  of  Governors  extend. 
Their  lives  are  more  sacred  than  the  lives  of  private  persons ; 
but  they  may  nevertheless  be  lawfully  resisted,  and,  in  certain 
cases,  put  to  death. 

Chapter  YIIL  The  ways  of  acquiring  supreme  Power. 
That  government  has  most  divine  right  that  is  best  adapted 
to  the  public  good :  a  divine  right  of  succession  to  civil  offices 
is  ridiculous. 

Chapter  IX.  takes  up  the  sphere  of  civil  law.  (1)  To  enforce 
the  laws  of  nature  ;  (2)  To  appoint  the  forms  &c.,  of  contracts 
and  dispositions,  with  a  view  to  prevent  fraud  ;  (3)  To  require 
men  to  follow  the  most  prudent  methods  of  agriculture,  manu- 
factures, and  commerce ;  (4)  To  prescribe  rules  in  matters 
morally  indifferent,  where  uniformity  is  advantageous. 
Opinions  should  be  tolerated;  all  except  Atheism,  and  the 
denial  of  moral  obligation. 

Chapter  X.  The  Laws  of  Peace  and  War,  belonging  now 
to  the  subject  of  International  Law. 

Chapter  XI.  (concluding  the  work)  discusses  some  cases 
connected  with  the  duration  of  the  *  Politick  Union.' 

This  bare  indication  of  topics  will  suffice  to  give  an  idea 
of  the  working  out  of  Hutcheson's  system.     For  summary  : — 

I. — The  Standard,  according  to  Hutcheson,  is  identical 
with  the  Moral  Faculty.   It  is  the  Sense  of  unique  excellence  in 


THE  DIGNIFED   VIEW   OF  HUMAN  NA.TUKE.  179 

certain  affections  and  in  tlie  actions  consequent  upon  them. 
The  object  of  approval  is,  in  the  main,  benevolence. 

II. — His  division  of  the  feelings  is  into  calm  and  tur- 
bulent, each  of  these  being  again  divided  into  self  regarding 
and  benevolent.  He  affirms  the  existence  of  pure  Disinterest- 
edness, a  calm  regard  for  the  most  extended  well-being. 
There  are  also  turbulent  passions  of  a  benevolent  kind,  whose 
end  is  their  simple  gratification.  Hutcheson  has  thus  a 
higher  and  lower  grade  of  Benevolence ;  the  higher  would 
correspond  to  the  disinterestedness  that  arises  from  the 
operation  oi  fixed  ideas,  the  lower  to  those  affections  that  are 
generated  in  us  by  pleasing  objects. 

He  has  no  discussion  on  the  freedom  of  the  will,  con- 
tenting himself  with  mere  voluntariness  as  an  element  in 
moral  approbation  or  censure." 

III. — The  Summum  Bonum  is  fully  discussed.  He  places 
the  pleasures  of  sympathy  and  moral  goodness  (also  of  piety) 
in  the  highest  rank,  the  passive  sensations  in  the  lowest. 
Instead  of  making  morality,  like  health,  a  neutral  state 
(though  an  indispensable  condition  of  happiness),  he  ascribes 
to  it  the  highest  positive  gratification. 

IV. — In  proceeding  upon  Rights,  instead  of  Duties,  as  a 
basis  of  classification,  Hutcheson  is  following  in  the  wake  of 
the  jm-isconsults,  rather  than  of  the  moralists.  When  he 
enters  into  the  details  of  moral  dutic  s  lie  throws  aside  his 
'  moral  sense,'  and  draws  his  rules,  most  of  them  from  Roman 
Law,  the  rest  chiefly  from  manifest  convenience. 

V.  and  VI. — Hutcheson 's  relation  to  Politics  and  Theology 
requires  no  comment. 

BERNARD   DE  MANDEVILLE.         [1670-1733.] 

Mandevtlle  was  author  of  '  The  Fable  of  the  Bees ;  or, 
Private  Vices,  Public  Benefits'  (1714).  This  work  is  a  satire 
upon  artificial  society,  having  for  its  chief  aim  to  expose  the 
hollowness  of  the  so-called  dignity  of  human  nature.  Dugald 
Stewart  considered  it  a  recommendation  to  any  theory  of 
the  mind  that  it  exalted  our  conceptions  of  human  nature. 
Shaftesbury's  views  were  entitled  to  this  advantage ;  but, 
observes  Mandeville,  '  the  ideas  he  had  formed  of  the  good- 
ness and  excellency  of  our  nature,  were  as  romantic  and 
chimerical,  as  they  are  beautiful  and  amiable.'  Mandeville 
examined  not  what  human  nature  our/ht  to  be,  but  what  it 
really  is.  In  contrast,  therefore,  to  the  moralists  that  dis« 
tinguish  between  a  higher  and  a  lower  in  our  nature,  attribut* 


180  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— MANDEVILLE. 

ing  to  the  higher  everything  good  and  noble,  while  the  lowef 
ought  to  be  persecated  and  despised,  Mandeville  declares  the 
fancied  higher  parts  to  be  the  region  of  vanity  and  imposture, 
while  the  renowned  deeds  of  men,  and  the  greatness  of  king- 
doms, really  arise  from  the  passions  usually  reckoned  base  and 
sensual.  As  his  views  are  scattered  through  numerous  disser- 
tations, it  will  be  best  to  summarize  them  under  a  few  heads. 

1.  Virtue  and  Vice.  Morality  is  not  natural  to  m.an  ;  it  is 
the  invention  of  wise  men,  who  have  endeavoured  to  infuse 
the  belief,  that  it  is  best  for  everybody  to  prefer  the  public 
interest  to  their  own.  As,  however,  they  could  bestow  no 
real  recompense  for  the  thwarting  of  self-interest,  they  con- 
trived an  imagiiiarij  one — honour.  Upon  this  they  proceeded 
to  divide  men  into  two  classes^  the  one  abject  and  base,  in- 
capable of  self-denial ;  the  other  noble,  because  they  sup- 
pressed their  passions,  and  acted  for  the  public  welfare.  Man 
was  thus  won  to  virtue,  not  by  force,  but  by  flattery. 

In  regard  to  praiseworthiness,  Shaftesbury,  according  to 
Mandeville,  was  the  first  to  affirm  that  virtue  could  exist  with- 
out self-denial.  This  was  opposed  to  the  prevailing  opinion, 
and  to  the  view  taken  up  and  criticised  by  Mandeville.  His 
own  belief  was  different.  '  It  is  not  in  feeling  the  passions,  or 
in  being  affected  with  the  frailties  of  nature,  that  vice  consists  ; 
but  in  indulging  and  obeying  the  call  of  them,  contrary  to  the 
dictates  of  reason.' 

2.  Self-love.  'It  is  an  admirable  saying  of  a  worthy 
divine,  that  though  many  discoveries  have  been  made  in  the 
world  of  self-love,  there  is  yet  abundance  of  terra  incognita 
left  behind.'  There  is  nothing  so  sincere  upon  earth  as  the 
love  that  creatures  bear  to  themselves.  '  Man  centres  every- 
thing in  himself,  and  neither  loves  nor  hates,  but  for  his  own 
sake.'  Nay,  more,  we  are  naturally  regardless  of  the  effect  of 
our  conduct  upon  others ;  we  have  no  innate  love  for  our 
fellows.  The  highest  virtue  is  not  without  reward ;  it  has  a 
satisfaction  of  its  own,  the  pleasure  of  contemplating  one's 
own  worth.  But  is  there  no  genuine  self-denial  ?  Mandeville 
answers  by  a  distinction  :  mortifying  one  passion  to  gratify 
another  is  very  common,  but  it  is  not  self-denial ;  self-inflicted 
pain  without  any  recompense — where  is  that  to  be  found  ? 

'  Charity  is  that  virtue  by  which  part  of  that  sincere  love 
we  have  for  ourselves  is  transferred  pure  and  unmixed  to 
others  (not  friends  or  relatives),  whom  we  have  no  obligation 
to,  nor  hope  or  expect  anything  from.'  The  counterfeit  of 
true  charity  is  pity  or  compassion,  which  is  a  fellow-feeling  for 


SELF-LOVE  AND   PEIDE.  181 

the  anfferings  of  others.  Pity  is  as  mucli  a  frailty  of  our 
nature  as  anger,  pride,  or  fear.  The  weakest  minds  (e.jy., 
women  and  children)  have  generally  the  greatest  share  of  it. 
It  is  excited  through  the  eye  or  the  ear ;  when  the  suffering 
does  not  strike  our  senses,  the  feeling  is  weak,  and  hardly 
more  than  an  imitation  of  pity.  Pity,  since  it  seeks  rather  our 
own  relief  from  a  painful  sight,  than  the  good  of  others,  must 
be  curbed  and  controlled  in  order  to  produce  any  benefit  to 
society. 

Mandeville  draws  a  nice  distinction  between  self-love,  and, 
what  he  calls,  self -liking.  'To  increase  the  care  in  creatures  to 
preserve  themselves,  Nature  has  given  them  an  instinct,  by 
which  even/  individual  values  itself  above  its  real  worth.^  The 
more  mettlesome  and  spirited  animals  (e.g.,  horses)  are  en- 
dowed with  this  instinct.  In  us,  it  is  accompanied  with  an  ap- 
prehension that  we  do  overvalue  ourselves;  hence  our  suscepti- 
bility to  the  confirmatory  good  opinion  of  others.  But  if  each 
were  to  display  openly  his  own  feeling  of  superiority,  quarrels 
would  inevitably  arise.  The  grand  discovery  whereby  the  ill 
consequences  of  this  passion  are  avoided  i^ politeness.  '  Good 
manners  consists  in  flattering  the  pride  of  others,  and  conceal- 
ing our  own.'  The  first  step  is  to  conceal  our  good  opinion 
of  ourselves ;  the  next  is  more  impudent,  namely,  to  pretend 
that  we  value  others  more  highly  than  ourselves.  But  it  takes 
a  long  time  to  come  to  that  pitch ;  ihe  Romans  were  almost 
masters  of  the  world  before  they  learned  politeness. 

3.  Pride,  Yanitij,  Honour.  Pride  is  of  great  consequence 
in  Mandeville's  system.  '  The  moral  virtues  are  the  political 
off'spriug  which  flattery  begot  upon  pride.'  Man  is  naturally 
innocent,  timid,  and  stupid  ;  desdtnte  of  strong  passions  or  ap- 
petites, he  would  remain  in  his  primitive  barbarism  were  it  not 
for  pride.  Yet  all  moralists  condemn  pride,  as  a  vain  notion  of 
our  own  superiority.  It  is  a  subtle  passion,  not  easy  to  trace. 
It  is  often  seen  in  the  humility  of  the  humble,  and  the  shame- 
lessness  of  the  shameless.  It  simulates  charity ;  '  pride  and 
vanity  have  built  more  hospitals  than  all  the  virtues  together.' 
It  is  the  chief  ingredient  in  the  chastity  of  women,  and  in  the 
courage  of  men.  Less  cynical  moralists  than  Mandeville  have 
looked  with  suspicion  on  posthumous  fame  ;  '  so  silly  a  creature 
is  man,  as  that,  intoxicated  with  the  fames  of  vanity,  he  can 
feast  on  the  thought  of  the  praises  that  shall  be  paid  his 
memory  in  fature  ages,  with  so  much  ecstasy  as  to  neglect  his 
present  life,  nay  court  and  covet  death,  if  he  but  imagines  that 
it  will  add  to  the  glory  he  had  acquired  before.'     But  the 


182  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— MANDEVILLE. 

most  notable  institution  of  pride  is  the  love  of  honour.  Honon? 
is  a  *  chimera,'  having  no  reality  in  nature,  but  a  mere  inven- 
tion of  moralists  and  politicians,  to  keep  men  close  to  their 
engagements,  whatever  they  be.  In  some  families  it  is  heredi- 
tary, like  the  gout ;  but,  luckily,  the  vulgar  are  destitute  of 
it.  In  the  time  of  chivalry,  honour  was  a  very  troublesome 
affair ;  but  in  the  beginning  of  the  17th  century,  it  was  melted 
over  again,  and  brought  to  a  new  standard ;  '  they  put  in  the 
same  weight  of  courage,  half  the  quantity  of  honesty,  and  a 
very  little  justice,  but  not  a  scrap  of  any  other  virtue.'  The 
worst  thing  about  it  is  duelling  ;  but  there  are  more  suicides 
than  duels,  so  that  at  any  rate  men  do  not  hate  others  more 
than  themselves.  After  a  half- satirical  apology  for  duelling, 
he  concludes  with  one  insurmountable  objection  ;  duelling  is 
wholly  repugnant  to  religion,  adding  with  the  muffled 
scepticism  characteristic  of  the  18th  century,  *  how  to  reconcile 
them  must  be  left  to  wiser  heads  than  mine.' 

4.  Private  vices,  public  benefits.  Mandeville  ventures  to 
compare  society  to  a  bowl  of  punch.  Avarice  is  the  souring, 
and  prodigality  the  sweetening  of  it.  The  water  is  the 
ignorance  and  folly  of  the  insipid  multitude,  while  honour 
and  the  noble  qualities  of  man  represent  the  brandy.  To 
each  of  these  ingredients  we  may  object  in  turn,  but  ex- 
perience teaches  that,  when  judiciously  mixed,  they  make 
an  excellent  liquor.  It  is  not  the  good,  but  the  evil  qualities 
of  men,  that  lead  to  worldly  greatness.  Without  luxury 
we  should  have  no  trade.  This  doctrine  is  illustrated  at 
great  length,  and  has  been  better  remembered  than  anything 
else  in  the  book ;  but  it  may  be  dismissed  with  two  remarks. 
(1)  It  embodies  an  error  in  political  economy,  namely,  that  it 
is  spending  and  not  saving  that  gives  employment  to  the 
poor.  If  Mandeville's  aim  had  been  less  critical,  and  had  he 
been  less  delighted  with  his  famous  paradox,  we  may  infer 
from  the  acuteness  of  his  reasoning  on  the  subject,  that  he 
would  have  anticipated  the  true  doctrine  of  political  economy, 
as  he  saw  through  the  fallacy  of  the  mercantile  theory.  (2) 
He  employs  the  term,  luxury,  with  great  latitude,  as  including 
whatever  is  not  a  bare  necessary  of  existence.  According  to 
the  fashionable  doctrine  of  his  day,  all  luxury  was  called  an 
evil  and  a  vice ;  and  in  this  sense,  doubtless,  vice  is  essential 
to  the  existence  of  a  great  nation. 

5.  The  origin  of  society.  Mandeville's  remarks  on  this 
subject  are  the  best  he  has  written,  and  come  nearest  to  the 
accredited  views  of  the  present  day.     He  denies  that  we  have 


OEIGIN   OF   SOCIETY.  183 

any  natural  affection  for  one  another,  or  any  natural  aversion 
or  hatred.  Each  seeks  his  own  happiness,  and  conflict  arises 
from  the  opposition  of  men's  desires.  To  make  a  society  out 
of  the  raw  material  of  uncivilized  men,  is  a  work  of  great  diffi- 
culty, requiring  the  concurrence  of  many  favourable  accidents, 
and  a  long  period  of  time.  For  the  qualities  developed  among 
civilized  men  no  more  belong  to  them  in  a  savage  state,  than 
the  properties  of  wine  exist  in  the  grape.  Society  begins  with 
families.  In  the  beginning,  the  old  savage  has  a  great  wish 
to  rule  his  children,  but  has  no  capacity  for  government.  He 
is  inconstant  and  violent  in  his  desires,  and  incapable  of  any 
steady  conduct.  What  at  first  keeps  men  together  is  not  so 
much  reverence  for  the  father,  as  the  common  danger  from 
wild  beasts.  The  traditions  of  antiquity  are  full  of  the  prowess 
of  heroes  in  killing  dragons  and  monsters.  The  second  step 
to  society  is  the  danger  men  are  in  from  one  another.  To  pro- 
tect themselves,  several  families  would  be  compelled  to  accep 
the  leadership  of  the  strongest.  The  leaders,  seeing  the  mis- 
chiefs of  dissension,  would  employ  all  their  art  to  extirpate 
that  evil.  Thus  they  would  forbid  killing  one  another,  steal- 
ing one  another's  wives,  &c.  The  third  and  last  step  is  the 
invention  of  letters  ;  this  is  essential  to  the  growth  of  society, 
and  to  the  corresponding  expansion  of  law.* 

I. —  Mandeville's  object  being  chiefly  negative  and  dialeC' 
tical,  he  has  left  little  of  positive  ethical  theory.  Virtue  he 
regards  as  de  facto  an  arbitrary  institution  of  society;  what  it 
ought  to  be,  he  hardly  says,  but  the  tendency  of  his  writings 
is  to  make  the  good  of  the  whole  to  be  preferred  to  private 
interest. 

II. — He  denies  the  existence  of  a  moral  sense  and  of  dis- 
interestedness.    The  motive  to  observe  moral  rules  is  pride 

*  It  is  instructive  to  compare  Mandeville's  a  priori  guesses  with  the 
results  of  Mr.  Maine's  historical  investigation  into  the  condition  of  early 
societies.  The  evidence  shows  that  society  originated  in  the  family 
system.  Mandeville  conjectured  that  solitary  families  would  never  attain 
to  government;  but  Mr.  Maine  considers  that  there  was  a  complete  des- 
potic government  in  single  families.  '  They  have  neither  assemblies  for 
consultation  nor  thcmistes,  but  every  one  exercises  jurisdiction  over  his 
wives  and  chil  Iren,  and  they  pay  no  regard  to  one  another.'  The  next 
stage  is  the  rise  of  yentes  and  tribes,  which  took  place  probably  when  a 
family  held  together  instead  of  separating  on  the  death  of  the  patriarch. 
The  features  of  this  state  were  chieftainship  and  themistes,  that  is,  govern- 
ment not  by  laws,  but  by  ex  post  facto  decisions  upon  cases  as  they  arose. 
This  gradually  developed  into  customary  law,  which  was  in  its  turn  super- 
seded, on  the  invention  of  writing,  by  written  codes.  Maine's  Ancient 
Law,  Chap.  V. 


184  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — HUME. 

and  vanity  fomented  by  politicians.  He  does  not  regard 
virtue  as  an  independent  end,  even  by  association,  but  con- 
siders that  pride  in  its  naked  form  is  the  ever  present  incen- 
tive to  good  conduct. 

v.— The  connexion  of  vii'tue  with  society  is  already  fully 
indicated. 

In  France,  the  name  of  Helvetius  (author  of  De  Vesprit, 
Be  Vhomme,  &c.,  1715-71)  is  identified  with  a  serious  (in  con- 
trast to  Mandeville),  and  perfectly  consistent,  attempt  to 
reduce  all  morality  to  direct  Self-interest.  Though  he  adopted 
this  ultimate  interpretation  of  the  facts,  Helvetias  was  by 
no  means  the  '  low  and  loose  moralist'  that  he  has  been 
described  to  be ;  and,  in  particular,  his  own  practice  displayed 
a  rare  benevolence. 

DAVID  HUME.         [1711-1776.] 

The  Ethical  views  of  Hame  are  contained  in  '  An  Enquiry 
concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals.^ 

In  an  Introductory  Section  (I.)  he  treats  of  the  General 
Principles  of  Morals. 

After  deso.ribing  those  that  profess  to  deny  the  reality  of 
the  distinction  of  flight  and  Wrong,  as  disingenuous  dis- 
putants, useless  to  reason  with, — he  states  the  great  problem 
of  Morals  to  be,  whether  the  foundation  is  Reason  or  Senti- 
ment ;  whether  our  knowledge  of  moral  distinctions  is  attained 
by  a  chain  of  argument  and  induction,  or  by  an  immediate 
feeling  or  finer  internal  sense. 

Specious  arguments  may  be  urged  on  both  sides.  On  the 
side  of  Reason,  it  may  be  contended,  that  the  justice  and 
injustice  of  actions  are  often  a  subject  of  argument  and  con- 
troversy like  the  sciences  ;  whereas  if  they  appealed  at  once  to 
a  sense,  they  would  be  as  unsusceptible  of  truth  or  falsehood 
as  the  harmony  of  verse,  the  tenderness  of  passion,  or  the 
brilliancy  of  wit. 

In  reply,  the  supporters  of  Sentiment  may  urge  that  the 
character  of  virtue  is  to  be  amiahJe,  and  of  vice  to  be  odious^ 
which  are  not  intellectual  distinctions.  The  end  of  moral 
distinctions  is  to  influence  the  feelings  and  determine  the  will, 
which  no  mere  assent  of  the  understanding  can  do.  Extin- 
guish our  feelings  towards  virtue  and  vice,  and  norality 
would  cease  to  have  any  influence  on  our  lives. 

The  arguments  on  both  sides  have  so  much  force  in  them, 
that  we  may  reasonably  suspect  that  Reason  and  Sentiment 
both  concur  in  our  moral  determinations.     The  final  sentence 


BENEVOLENCE   THE   HIGHEST   HUMA.N   MERIT.  185 

upon  actions,  wheTebj  we  pronounce  them  praiseworthy  or 
blameable,  roay  depend  on  the  feelings  ;  while  a  process  of  the 
understanding  may  be  requisite  to  make  nice  distinctions, 
examine  complicated  relations,  and  ascertain  matters  of  fact. 

It  is  not  the  author's  intention,  however,  to  pursue  the 
subject  in  the  form  of  adjudicatintr  between  these  two  prin- 
ciples, but  to  follow  what  he  deems  a  simpler  method — to 
analyze  that  complication  of  mental  qualities,  called  Personal 
Merit  :  to  ascertain  the  attributes  or  qualities  that  render  a  man 
an  object  of  esteem  and  affection,  or  of  hati-ed  and  contempt. 
This  is  a  question  of  fact,  and  not  of  abstract  science  ;  and 
should  be  determined,  as  similar  questions  are,  in  the  modern 
physics,  by  following  the  experimental  method,  and  drawing 
general    maxims  from    a  comparison    of  particular  instances. 

Section  11.  is  Of  Benevolence. 

His  first  remark  on  Benevolence  is,  that  it  is  identified  in 
all  countries  with  the  highest  merits  that  human  nature  is 
capable  of  attaining  to. 

This  prepares  the  way  for  the  farther  observation,  that  in 
setting  forth  the  praises  of  a  humane,  beneficent  man,  the  one 
circumstance  that  never  fails  to  be  insisted  on  is  the  happi- 
ness to  society  arising  through  his  good  offices.  Like  the 
sun,  an  inferior  minister  of  providence,  he  cheers,  invigorates, 
and  sustains  the  surrounding  world.  May  we  not  therefore 
conclude  that  the  UTILITY  resulting  from  social  virtues, 
forms,  at  least,  a  jiart  of  their  merit,  and  is  one  source  of  the 
approbation  paid  to  them.  He  illustrates  this  by  a  number 
of  interesting  examples,  and  defers  the  enquiry — how  large  a 
part  of  the  social  virtues  depend  on  utility,  and  for  what 
reason  we  are  so  nmch  affected  by  it. 

Section  III.  is  on  Justice.  That  Justice  is  useful  to 
society,  and  thence  derives  part  of  its  merit,  would  be  super- 
fluous to  prove.  That  public  utility  is  the  sole  orio-in  of 
Justice,  and  that  the  beneficial  consequences  are  the  sole  foun- 
dation of  its  merit,  may  seem  more  questionable,  but  can  in 
the  author's  opinion  be  maintained. 

He  puts  the  supposition,  that  the  human  race  were  pro- 
vided with  such  abundance  of  all  external  things,  that  with- 
out industry,  care,  or  anxiety,  every  person  found  every  want 
fully  satisfied ;  and  remarks,  that  while  every  other  social 
virtue  (the  affections,  &c.)  might  flourish,  yet,  as  property 
would  be  absent,  mine  and  thine  unknown,  Justice  would  be 
useless,  an  idle  ceremonial,  and  could  never  come  into  the 
catalogue  of  the  virtues.      In  point  of  fact,  where  any  agent. 


186  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS  — HUME, 

as  air,  water,  or  land,  is  so  abundant  as  to  supply  everybody, 
questions  of  justice  do  not  arise  on  that  particular  subject. 

Suppose  again  that  in  our  present  necessitous  condition, 
the  mind  of  every  man  were  so  enlarged  and  so  replete  with, 
generosity  that  each  should  feel  as  much  for  his  fellows  as  for 
himself — the  heau  ideal  of  communism — in  this  case  Justice 
would  be  in  abeyance,  and  its  ends  answered  by  Benevolence. 
This  state  is  actually  realized  in  well-cultivated  families ;  and 
communism  has  been  attempted  and  maintained  for  a  time  iu 
the  ardour  of  new  enthusiasms. 

Reverse  tlie  above  suppositions,  and  imagine  a  society  iu 
such  want  that  the  utmost  care  is  unable  to  prevent  the 
greater  number  from  perishing,  and  all  from  the  extremes  of 
misery,  as  in  a  shipwreck  or  a  siege ;  in  such  circumstances, 
justice  is  suspended  in  favour  of  self-preservation  ;  the  possi- 
bility of  good  order  is  at  an  end,  and  Justice,  the  means,  is 
discarded  as  useless.  Or,  again,  suppose  a  virtuous  man  to 
fall  into  a  society  of  ruffians  on  the  road  to  swift  destruction ; 
his  sense  of  justice  would  be  of  no  avail,  and  consequently  he 
would  arm  himself  with  the  first  weapon  he  could  seize,  con- 
sulting self-preservation  alone.  The  ordinary  punishment  of 
criminals  is,  as  regards  them,  a  suspension  of  justice  for  the 
benefit  of  society.  A  state  of  war  is  the  remission  of  justice 
between  the  parties  as  of  no  use  or  application.  A  civilized 
nation  at  war  with  barbarians  must  discard  even  the  small 
relics  of  justice  retained  in  war  with  other  civilized  nations. 
Thus  the  rules  of  equity  and  justice  depend  on  the  condition 
that  men  are  placed  in,  and  are  limited  by  their  Utility  in 
each  separate  state  of  things.  The  common  state  of  society 
is  a  medium  between  the  extreme  suppositions  now  made : 
we  have  our  self-partialities,  but  have  learnt  the  value  of 
equity  ;  we  have  few  enjoyments  by  nature,  but  a  considerable 
number  by  industry.  Hence  we  have  the  ideas  of  Propertgr ; 
to  these  Justice  is  essential,  and  it  thus  derives  its  moral 
obligation. 

The  poetic  fictions  of  the  Golden  Age,  and  the  philosophic 
fictions  of  a  State  of  Nature,  equally  adopt  the  same  funda- 
mental assumption ;  in  the  one,  justice  was  unnecessary,  in 
the  other,  it  was  inadmissible.  So,  if  there  were  a  race  of 
creatures  so  completely  servile  as  never  to  contest  any  privi- 
lege with  us,  nor  resent  any  infliction,  which  is  very  much 
our  position  with  the  lower  animals,  justice  would  have  no 
place  in  our  dealings  with  them.  Or,  suppose  once  more, 
that  each  person  possessed  within  himself  every  faculty  for 


JUSTICE.  187 

existence,  and  were  isolated  from  every  other ;  so  solitary  a 
beiug  would  be  as  incapable  of  justice  as  of  speech.  The 
sphere  of  this  duty  begins  with  society ;  and  extends  as 
buciety  extends,  and  as  it  contributes  to  the  well-being  of  the 
iudi vidua!  members  of  society. 

Tae  author  next  examines  the  ^particular  laws  embodying 
justice  and  determining  property.  He  supposes  a  creature, 
iiuving  reason,  but  unsKiiied  in  human  nature,  to  deliberate 
with  himself  how  to  distribute  property.  His  most  obvious 
tiiought  would  be  to  give  the  largest  possessions  to  the  most 
virtuous,  so  as  to  give  the  power  of  cluing  good  where  there 
was  the  most  inclination,  liut  so  unpracticaole  is  this  design, 
that  although  sometimes  conceived,  it  is  never  executed ;  the 
civil  magistrate  knows  that  it  would  be  utterly  destructive  of 
human  society;  sublime  as  may  be  the  ideal  justice  that  it 
supposes,  he  sets  it  aside  on  the  calculation  of  its  bad  conse- 
quences. 

Seeing  also  that,  with  nature's  liberality,  were  all  her 
gifts  equally  distributed,  every  one  would  have  so  good  a 
share  that  no  one  would  have  a  title  to  complain ;  and  seeing, 
farther,  that  this  is  the  only  t_ype  of  perfect  equality  or  ideal 
justice — there  is  no  good  ground  for  falling  short  of  it  but  the 
knowledge  that  the  attempt  would  be  pernicious  to  society. 
The  writers  on  the  Law  of  Nature,  whatever  principles  they 
begin  with,  must  assign  as  the  ultimate  reason  of  law  the 
necessities  and  convenience  of  mankind.  Uninstructed  nature 
could  never  make  the  distinction  between  mine  and  yours ;  it 
is  a  purely  artificial  product  of  society.  Even  when  this  distinc- 
tion is  established,  and  justice  requires  it  to  be  adhered  to,  yet 
we  do  not  scruple  in  extraordinary  cases  to  violate  justice  in 
an  individual  case  for  the  safety  ol  the  people  at  large. 

When  the  interests  of  society  require  a  rule  of  justice,  but 
do  not  indicate  any  rule  in  particular,  the  resort  is  to  some 
analofjy  with  a  rule  already  established  on  grounds  of  the 
general  interest. 

For  determining  what  is  a  man's  property,  there  may  be 
many  statutes,  customs,  precedents,  analogies,  some  constant 
and  inflexible,  some  variable  and  arbitrary,  but  all  professedly 
terminating  in  the  interests  of  human  society.  But  for  this, 
the  laws  of  property  would  be  undistinguishable  from  the 
wildest  superstitions. 

Such  a  reference,  instead  of  weakening  the  obligations  of 
justice,  strengthens  them.  What  stronger  foundations  can 
there  be  for  any  duty  than  that,  without  it,  human  natiuT 


188  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — HUME. 

could  not  subsist ;  and  that,  according  as  it  is  observed,  the 
degrees  of  human  happiness  go  on  increasing  ? 

Either  Justice  is  evidently  founded  on  Utility,  or  our 
regard  for  it  is  a  simple  instinct  like  hunger,  resentment, 
or  self-preservation.  Bat  on  this  last  supposition,  property, 
the  subject-matter,  must  be  also  discerned  by  an  instinct ; 
no  such  instinct,  however,  can  be  affirmed.  Indeed,  no 
single  instinct  would  suffice  for  the  number  of  considerations 
entering  into  a  fact  so  complex.  To  define  Inheritance  and 
Contract,  a  hundred  volumes  of  laws  are  not  enough;  how 
then  can  nature  embrace  such  complications  in  the  simplicity 
of  an  instinct.  For  it  is  not  laws  alone  that  we  must  have, 
but  authorized  interpreters.  Have  we  original  ideas  of 
prsetors,  and  chancellors,  and  juries  ? 

Instincts  are  uniform  in  their  operation ;  birds  of  a  species 
build  their  nests  alike.  The  laws  of  states  are  uniform  to 
about  the  same  extent  as  houses,  which  must  have  a  roof  and 
walls,  windows  and  chimneys,  because  the  end  in  view  de- 
mands certain  essentials;  but  beyond  these,  there  is  every 
conceivable  diversity. 

It  is  true  that,  by  education  and  custom,  we  blame  in- 
justice without  thinking  of  its  ultimate  consequences.  So 
universal  are  the  rules  of  justice,  from  the  universality  of  its 
end,  that  we  approve  of  it  mechanically.  Still,  we  have  often 
to  recur  to  the  final  end,  and  to  ask,  What  must  become  of 
the  world  if  such  practices  prevail  ?  How  could  society  sub- 
sist under  such  disorders  ? 

Thus,  then,  Hume  considers  that^  by  an  inductive  deter- 
mination, on  the  strict  Newtonian  basis,  he  has  proved  that 
the  SOLE  foundation  of  our  regard  to  justice  is  the  support 
and  welfare  of  society  :  and  since  no  moral  excellence  is  more 
esteemed,  we  must  have  some  strong  disposition  in  favour  of 
general  usefulness.  Such  a  disposition  must  be  a  part  of  the 
humane  virtues,  as  it  is  the  sole  source  of  the  moral  appro- 
bation of  fidelity,  justice,  veracity,  and  integrity. 

Section  IV.  relates  to  Political  Society,  and  is  intended 
to  show  that  Government,  Allegiance,  and  the  Laws  of  each 
State,  are  justified  solely  by  Utility. 

If  men  had  sagacity  to  perceive,  and  strength  of  mind  to 
follow  out,  distant  and  general  interests,  there  had  been  no 
such  thing  as  government.  In  other  words,  if  government 
were  totally  useless,  it  would  not  be.  The  duty  of  Allegiance 
would  be  no  duty,  but  for  the  advantage  of  it,  in  preserving 
peace  and  order  among  mankind. 


WHY  UTILITY  PLEASES.  189 

[Harae  ia  here  supposing  that  mea  enter  into  society  on 
equal  terms ;  he  maizes  no  allowance  for  the  exercise  of  the 
rig-ht  of  the  stronger  in  making  compulsory  social  unions. 
This,  however,  does  not  affect  his  reasoning  as  to  the  source 
of  our  approbation  of  social  duty,  which  is  not  usually  ex- 
tended to  tyranny.] 

When  political  societies  hold  intercourse  with  one  another, 
certain  regulations  are  made,  termed  Liws  of  Nations,  which 
have  no  other  end  than  the  advantage  of  those  concerned. 

The  virtue  of  Chastity  is  subservient  to  the  utility  of 
rearing  the  young,  which  requires  the  combination  of  both 
parents  ;  and  that  combination  reposes  on  marital  fidelity. 
Without  such  a  utility,  the  virtue  would  never  have  beea 
thought  of.  The  reason  why  chastity  is  extended  to  cases 
where  child-bearing  does  not  enter,  is  that  general  rides  are 
often  carried  beyond  their  original  occasion,  especially  in 
matters  of  taste  and  sentiment. 

The  prohibition  of  marriage  between  near  relations,  and 
the  turpitude  of  incest,  have  in  view  the  preserving  of  purity 
of  manners  among  persons  much  together. 

The  laws  of  good  manners  are  a  kind  of  lesser  morality, 
for  the  better  securing  of  our  pleasures  in  society. 

Even  robbers  and  pirates  must  have  their  laws.  Im- 
moral gallantries,  where  authorized,  are  governed  by  a  set  of 
rules.  Societies  for  play  have  laws  for  the  conduct  of  the 
game.  War  has  its  laws  as  well  as  peace.  The  fights  of 
boxers,  wrestlers,  and  such  like,  are  subject  to  rules.  Jj^or  all 
such  cases,  the  common  iaterest  and  utility  begets  a  standard 
of  rio-ht  and  wrong'  in  those  concerned. 

Section  V.  proceeds  to  argue  Why  Utility  pleases.  How- 
ever powerful  education  may  be  in  forming  men's  sentiments, 
there  must,  in  such  a  matter  as  morality,  be  some  deep  natural 
distinction  to  work  upon.  Now,  there  are  only  two  natural 
sentiments  that  Utility  can  appeal  to:  (1)  Self-Interest,  and 
(2j  Generosity,  or  the  interests  of  others. 

The  deduction  of  morals  from  Self-Love  is  obvious,  and 
no  doubt  explains  much.  An  appeal  to  experience,  however, 
shows  its  defects.  We  praise  virtuous  actions  in  remote  ages 
and  countries,  where  our  own  interests  are  out  of  the  question. 
Even  when  we  have  a  private  interest  in  some  virtuous  action, 
our  praise  avoids  that  part  of  it,  and  prefers  to  fasten  on  what 
we  are  not  interested  in.  When  we  hear  of  the  details  of  a 
generous  action,  we  are  moved  by  it,  before  we  know  when  or 
where  it  took  place.     Nor  will  the  force  of  imagination  account 


190  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUME. 

for  the  feeling  in  those  cases ;  if  we  have  an  eye  solely  to  our 
own  real  interest,  it  is  not  couceivabie  how  we  can  be  moved 
by  a  mere  imaginary  interest. 

But  another  view  may  be  taken.  Some  have  maintained 
that  the  public  interest  is  our  own  interest,  and  is  therefore 
promoted  by  our  self-love.  The  reply  is  that  the  two  are 
often  opposed  to  each  other,  and  still  we  approve  of  the  pret- 
erence  of  the  public  interest.  We  are,  therelbre,  driven  to 
adopt  a  more  public  affection,  and  to  admit  that  the  interests 
of  society,  on  their  own  account,  are  not  indifferent  to  us. 

Have  we  any  difficulty  to  comprehend  the  force  of  hu- 
manity or  benevolence  ?  Or  to  conceive  that  the  very  aspect 
of  happiness,  joy,  prosperity,  gives  pleasure;  while  pain, 
suffermg,  sorrow,  communicate  uneasiness  ?  Here  we  have 
an  unmistakeable,  powerful,  universal  sentiment  of  human 
nature  to  build  upon. 

The  author  gives  an  expanded  illustration  of  the  workings 
of  Benevolence  or  Sympathy,  which  well  deserves  to  be  read 
for  its  merits  of  execution.  We  must  here  content  ourselves 
with  stating  that  it  is  on  this  principle  of  disinterested  action, 
belonging  to  our  nature,  that  he  founds  the  chief  part  of  our 
Bentiment  of  Moral  Approbation. 

Section  VI.  takes  into  the  account  Qualities  useful  to 
OURSELVES.  We  praise  in  individuals  the  qualities  useful  to 
themselves,  and  are  pleased  with  the  happiness  flowing  to 
individuals  by  their  own  conduct.  This  can  be  no  selfish 
motive  on  our  part.  For  example.  Discretion,  so  necessary  to 
the  accomplishing  of  any  useful  enterprise,  is  commended; 
that  measured  union  of  enterprise  and  caution  found  in  great 
commanders,  is  a  subject  of  highest  admiration ;  and  why  ? 
For  the  usefulness,  or  the  success  that  it  brings.  What  need 
is  there  to  display  the  praises  of  Industry,  or  of  Frugality, 
virtues  useiiil  to  the  possessor  in  the  first  instance  ?  Then 
the  qualities  of  Honesty,  Fidelity,  and  Tkuth,  are  praised,  in 
the  first  place,  for  their  tendency  to  the  good  of  society ;  and, 
being  established  on  that  foundation,  they  are  also  approved 
as  advantageous  to  the  individual's  own  self.  A  part  of  our 
blame  of  Un chastity  in  a  woman  is  attached  to  its  imprudence 
with  reference  to  the  opinion  regarding  it.  Strength  of 
Mind  being  to  resist  present  care,  and  to  maintain  the  search 
of  distant  profit  and  enjoyment,  is  another  quality  of  great 
value  to  the  possessor.  The  distinction  between  the  Fool 
and  the  Wise  man  illustrates  the  same  position.  In  our 
approbation  of  all  such  qualities,  it  is  evident  that  the  hap- 


AGREEABLE   QUALITIES.  191 

piness  and  misery  of  others  are  not  indifferent  spectacles  to 
us :  the  one,  like  sunshine,  or  the  prospect  of  well-cultivated 
plains,  imparts  joy  and  satisfaction  ;  the  other,  like  a  lowering 
cloud  or  a  barren  landscape,  throws  a  damp  over  the  spirits. 

He  next  considers  the  influence  of  bodily  endowments 
and  the  goods  of  fortune  as  bearing  upon  the  general 
question. 

Even  in  animals,  one  great  source  of  beauty  is  the  suit- 
ability of  their  structure  to  their  manner  of  life.  In  times 
when  bodily  strength  in  men  was  more  essential  to  a  warrior 
than  now,  it  was  held  in  so  much  more  esteem.  Impotence 
in  both  sexes,  and  barrenness  in  women,  are  generally  con- 
temned, for  the  loss  of  human  pleasure  attending  them. 

As  regards  fortune,  how  can  we  account  for  the  regard 
paid  to  the  rich  and  powerful,  but  from  the  reflexion  to  the 
mind  of  prosperity,  happiness,  ease,  plenty,  authority,  and  the 
gratification  of  every  appetite.  Rank  and  family,  although 
they  may  be  detached  from  wealth  and  power,  had  originally 
a  reference  to  these. 

In  Section  VII.,  Hume  treats  of  Qualities  immediately 
AGREEABLE  TO  OURSELVES.  Under  this  head,  he  dilates  on  the 
influence  of  Cheerfulness,  as  a  social  quality :  on  Greatness  of 
Mind,  or  Dignity  of  Character ;  on  Courage  ;  on  Tranquillity, 
or  equanimity  of  mind,  in  the  midst  of  pain,  sorrow,  and 
adverse  fortune ;  on  Benevolence  in  the  aspect  of  an  agree- 
able spectacle;  and  lastly,  on  Delicacy  of  Taste,  as  a  merit. 
As  manifested  to  a  beholder,  all  these  qualities  are  engaging 
and  admirable,  on  account  of  the  immediate  pleasure  that  they 
communicate  to  the  person  possessed  of  them.  They  are 
farther  testimonies  to  the  existence  of  social  sympathy,  and 
to  the  connexion  of  that  with  our  sentiment  of  approbation 
towards  actions  or  persons. 

Section  VIII.  brings  forward  the  Qualities  immedl^tely 
agreeable  to  others.  These  are  Good  Manners  or  Politeness  ; 
the  Wit  or  Ingenuity  that  enlivens  social  intercourse; 
Modesty,  as  opposed  to  impudence,  arrogance,  and  vanity; 
Cleanliness,  and  Graceful  Manner;  all  which  are  obviously 
valued  for  the  pleasures  they  communicate  to  people  generally. 
Section  IX.  is  the  Conclusion.  Whatever  may  have  been 
maintained  in  systems  of  philosophy,  he  contends  that  in 
common  life  the  habitual  motives  of  panegyric  or  censure  are 
of  the  kind  described  by  him.  He  will  not  enter  into  the 
question  as  to  the  relative  shares  of  benevolence  and  self-love 
in  the  human  constitution.     Let  the  generous  sentiments  be 


192  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HUME. 

ever  bo  weak,  they  still  direct  a  preference  of  what  is  service- 
able to  what  is  pernicious ;  and  on  tliese  preferences  a  moral 
distinction  is  founded.  In  the  notion  of  morals,  two  things 
are  implied  ;  a  sentiment  common  to  all  mankind,  and  a  senti- 
ment whose  objects  comprehend  all  mankind ;  and  these  two 
requisites  belong  to  the  sentiment  of  humanity  or  benevolence. 

Another  spi-ing  of  our  constitution,  that  brings  a  great 
addition  of  force  to  moral  sentiment,  is  Love  of  Fame.  The 
pursuit  of  a  character,  name,  and  reputation  in  the  world, 
leads  to  a  habit  of  surveying  our  own  actions,  begets  a  rever- 
ence for  self  as  well  as  others,  and  is  thus  the  guardian  of 
every  virtue.  Humanity  and  Love  of  Reputation  combine  to 
form  the  highest  type  of  morality  yet  conceived. 

The  nature  of  moral  approhatlon  being  thus  solved,  there 
remains  the  nature  of  obligation  ;  by  which  the  author  means 
to  enquire,  if  a  man  having  a  view  to  his  own  welfare,  will 
not  find  his  best  account  in  the  practice  of  every  moral  virtue. 
He  dwells  upon  the  many  advantages  of  social  virtue,  of 
benevolence  and  friendship,  humanity  and  kindness,  of  truth 
and  honesty;  but  confesses  that  the  rule  that  'honesty  is  the 
best  policy'  is  liable  to  many  exceptions.  He  makes  ns 
acquainted  with  his  own  theory  of  Happiness.  How  little  is 
requisite  to  supply  the  necessities  of  nature  ?  and  what  com- 
parison is  there  between,  on  the  one  hand,  the  cheap  plea- 
sures of  conversation,  society,  study,  even  health,  and,  on  the 
other,  the  common  beauties  of  nature,  with  self-approbation ; 
and  the  feverish,  empty  amusements  of  luxury  and  expense  ? 

Thus  ends  the  main  treatise ;  but  the  author  adds,  iu  an 
Appendix,  four  additional  dissertations. 

The  first  takes  up  the  question  started  at  the  outset,  but 
postponed,  how  far  our  moral  approbation  is  a  matter  of 
reason,  and  how  f\ir  of  sentiment.  His  handling  of  this  topic 
is  luminous  and  decisive. 

If  the  utilit}'-  of  actions  be  a  foundation  of  our  approval  of 
them,  reason  must  have  a  share,  for  no  other  faculty  can  trace 
the  results  of  actions  in  their  bearings  upon  human  happi- 
ness. In  Justice  especially,  there  are  often  numerous  and 
complicated  considerations;  such  as  to  occupy  the  delibera- 
tions of  politicians  and  the  debates  of  lawyers. 

On  the  other  hand,  reason  is  insufficient  of  itself  to  con- 
stitute the  feeling  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation. 
R-eason  shows  the  means  to  an  end  ;  but  if  we  are  otherwise 
indifferent  to  the  end,  the  reasonings  fall  inoperative  on  the 
mind.     Here  then  a  sentiment  must  display  itself,  a  deligbfc 


REASON   INSUFFIC[ENT.  193 

in  the  happiness  of  men,  and  a  repugnance  to  what  eansea 
them  misery.  Reason  teaches  the  consequences  of  actions ; 
Humanity  or  Benevolence  is  roused  to  make  a  distinction  in 
favour  of  such  as  are  beneficial. 

He  adduces  a  number  of  illustrations  to  show  that  reason 
alone  is  insufficient  to  make  a  moral  sentimeut.  He  bids  us 
examine  Ingratitude,  for  instance  ;  good  offices  bestowed  on 
one  side,  ill-will  on  the  other.  Reason  might  say,  whether  a 
certain  action,  say  the  gift  o!"  money,  or  an  act  of  patronage, 
was  for  the  good  of  the  party  receiving  it,  and  whether  the 
circumstances  of  the  gift  indicated  a  good  intention  on  the 
part  of  the  giver;  it  might  also  say,  whether  the  actions  of  the 
person  oi)liged  were  intentionally  or  consciously  hurtful  or 
wanting  in  esteem  to  the  person  obliging.  But  when  all  this 
is  made  out  by  reason,  there  remains  the  sentiment  of  abhor- 
rence, whose  foundations  must  be  in  the  emotional  part  of  our 
nature,  in  our  delight  in  manifested  goodness,  and  our  abhor- 
rence of  the  opposite. 

He  refers  to  Beauty  or  Taste  as  a  parallel  case,  where 
there  may  be  an  operation  of  the  intellect  to  compute  propor- 
tions, but  where  the  elegance  or  beauty  must  arise  in  the 
region  of  feeling.  Thus,  while  reason  conveys  the  knowledge 
of  truth  and  falsehood,  sentiment  or  emotion  must  give  beauty 
and  deformity,  vice  and  virtue. 

Appendix  No.  H.  is  a  discussion  of  Self-love,  The  author 
adverts  first  to  the  position  that  benevolence  is  a  mere  pre- 
tence, a  cheat,  a  gloss  of  self-love,  and  dismisses  it  with  a 
burst  of  indignation.  He  next  considers  the  less  offensive 
view,  that  all  benevolence  and  generosity  are  resolvable  in 
the  last  resort  into  self-love.  He  does  not  attribute  to  the 
holders  of  this  opinion  any  laxity  in  their  own  practice  of 
virtue,  as  compared  with  other  men.  Epicurus  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  no  strangers  to  probity;  Atticus  and  Horace 
were  men  of  generous  dispositions ;  Hobbes  and  Locke  were 
irreproachable  in  their  lives.  These  men  all  allowed  that 
friendship  exists  without  hypocrisy ;  but  considered  that,  by 
a  sort  of  mental  chemistry,  it  might  be  made  out  self-love, 
twisted  and  moulded  by  a  particular  turn  of  the  imagination. 
But,  says  Hume,  as  some  men  have  not  the  turn  of  imagina- 
tion, and  others  have,  this  alone  is  quite  enough  to  make  the 
widest  difference  of  human  characters,  and  to  stamp  one  man 
as  virtuous  and  humane,  and  another  vicious  and  meanly  inter- 
ested. The  analysis  in  no  way  sets  aside  the  reality  of  moral 
distinctions.     The  question  is,  therefore,  purely  speculative. 


194  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— HUME. 

As  a  speoiilation,  it  is  open  to  tbese  objections.  (1)  Being 
contrary  to  the  unprejudiced  notions  of  mankind,  it  demands 
some  very  powerful  aid  from  philosophy.  On  the  face  of 
things,  the  selfish  passions  and  the  benevolent  passions  are 
widely  distinguished,  and  no  hypothesis  has  ever  yet  so  far 
overcome  the  disparity  as  to  show  that  the  one  could  grow 
out  of  the  other ;  we  may  discern  in  the  attempts  that  love  of 
slmjyliciti/,  which  has  done  so  much  harm  to  philosophy. 

The  Animals  are  susceptible  of  kindness;  shall  we  then 
attribute  to  them,  too,  a  refinement  of  self-interest  ?  Again, 
what  interest  can  a  fjnd  mother  have  in  view  who  loses  her 
health  in  attendance  on  a  sick  child,  and  languishes  and  dies 
of  grief  when  relieved  from  the  slavery  of  that  attendance? 

(2)  But  farther,  the  real  simplicity  lies  on  the  side  of  inde- 
pendent and  disinterested  benevolence.  There  are  bodily 
appetites  that  carry  us  to  their  objects  before  sensual  enjoy- 
ment ;  hunger  and  thirst  have  eating  and  drinking  for  their 
end  ;  the  gratification  follows,  and  becomes  a  secondary  desire. 
[A  very  questionable  analysis.]  So  there  are  mental  passions, 
as  fame,  power,  vengeance,  that  urge  us  to  act,  in  the  first 
instance  ;  and  when  the  end  is  attained,  the  pleasure  follows. 
Now,  as  vengeance  may  be  so  pursued  as  to  make  us  neglect 
ease,  interest,  and  safety,  why  may  we  not  allow  to  humanity 
and  friendship  the  same  privileges  ?  [This  is  Butler,  improved, 
in  the  statement.] 

Appendix  III.  gives  some  farther  considerations  with  re- 
gard to  Justice.  The  point  of  the  discussion  is  to  show  that 
Justice  differs  from  Generosity  or  Beneficence  in  a  regard  to 
distant  consequences,  and  to  General  Rules.  The  theme  is 
handled  in  the  author's  usual  happy  style,  but  contains  nothing 
special  to  him.  He  omits  to  state  what  is  also  a  prime  attri- 
bute of  Justice,  its  being  indispensable  to  the  very  existence 
of  society,  which  cannot  be  said  of  generosity  apart  from  its 
contributing  to  justice. 

Appendix  IV.  is  on  some  Verbal  Disputes.  He  remarks 
that,  neither  in  English  nor  in  any  other  modern  tongue,  is 
the  boundary  fixed  between  virtues  and  talents,  vices  and 
defects;  that  praise  is  given  to  natural  endowments,  as  well 
as  to  voluntary  exertions.  The  epithets  intellectual  and  moral 
do  not  precisely  divide  the  virtues ;  neither  does  the  contrast 
of  head  'ciudi  heart;  many  virtuous  qualities  partake  of  both 
ingredients.  So  the  sentiment  of  conscious  worth,  or  of  its 
opposite,  is  affected  by  what  is  not  in  our  power,  as  well  as  by 
wiiat  is ;  by  the  goodness  or  badness  of  our  memory,  as  well 


VAKIETIES   OF  MOEAX  SENTIMENT.  195 

as  bj  continence  or  dissoluteness  of  conduct.  Without  endow- 
ments of  the  understanding,  the  best  intentit)ns  will  not 
procure  esteem. 

The  ancient  moralists  included  in  the  virtues  what  are 
obviously  natural  endowments.  Prudence,  according  to  Cicero, 
involved  sagacity  or  powers  of  judgment.  In  Aristotle,  we 
find,  among  the  virtues.  Courage,  Temperance,  Magnanimity, 
Modesty,  Prudence,  and  manly  Openness,  as  well  as  Justice 
and  Friendship.  Epictetus  puts  people  on  their  guard  against 
humanity  and  compassion.  In  general,  the  difference  of  volun- 
tary and  involuntary  was  little  regar.led  in  ancient  ethics. 
This  is  changed  in  modern  times,  by  the  alliance  of  Ethics 
with  Theology.  The  divine  has  put  all  morality  on  the  foot- 
ing of  the  civil  law,  and  guarded  it  by  the  same  sanctions  of 
reward  and  punishment ;  and  consequently  must  make  the 
distinction  of  voluntary  and  involuntary  fundamental. 

Hume  also  composed  a  dialogue,  to  illustrate,  iu  his  light 
and  easy  style,  the  great  variety,  amounting  almost  to  opposi- 
tion, of  men's  moral  sentiments  in  different  ages.  This  may 
seem  adverse  to  his  principle  of  Utility,  as  it  is  to  the  doctrine 
of  an  Intuitive  Sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,  He  allows,  how- 
ever, for  the  different  ways  that  people  may  view  Utility, 
seeing  that  the  consequences  of  acting  are  often  difficult  to 
estimate,  and  people  may  agree  in  an  end  without  agreeing  in. 
the  means.  Still,  he  pays  too  little  attention  to  the  sentimental 
likings  and  dislikmgs  that  frequently  overbear  the  sense  of 
Utility  ;  scarcely  recognizing  it,  except  in  one  passage,  whei  e 
he  dwells  on  the  superstitions  that  mingle  with  a  regard  to 
the  consequences  of  actions  in  determining  right. 

We  shall  now  ^'^x>eat  the  leading  points  of  Hume's  system, 
in  the  usual  order. 

I. — The  Standard  of  Right  and  Wrong  is  Utility,  or  a  refer- 
ence to  the  Happiness  of  mankind.  This  is  the  ground,  as 
well  as  the  motive,  of  moral  approbation. 

II. — As  to  the  nature  of  the  Moral  Faculty,  he  contends 
that  it  is  a  compound  of  Reason,  and  Humane  or  Generous 
Sentiment. 

He  does  not  introduce  the  subject  of  Free-will  into  Morals. 

He  contends  strongly  for  the  existence  of  Disinterested 
Sentiment,  or  Benevolence ;  but  scarcely  recognizes  it  as 
leading  to  absolute  and  uncompensated  self-sacrifice.  He 
does  not  seem  to  see  that  as  far  as  the  approbation  of  benevo- 
lent actions  is  concerned,  we  are  anything  but  disinterested 
parties.     The  good  done  by  one  man  is  done  to  some  others ; 


196  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— PRICE. 

and  the  recipients  are  moved  by  their  self-love  to  enconrage 
beneficence.  »  The  regard  to  our  own  benefactor  makes  all 
benefactors  interesting. 

III. — He  says  little  directly  bearing  on  the  constituents  of 
Human  Happiness  ;  but  that  little  is  all  in  favour  of  simplicity 
of  life  and  cheap  pleasures.  He  does  not  reflect  that  the  plea- 
sures singled  out  by  him  are  far  from  cheap  ;  'agreeable  con- 
versation, society,  study,  health,  and  the  beauties  of  nature,* 
although  not  demanding  extraordinary  wealth,  cannot  be 
secured  without  a  larger  share  of  worldly  means  than  has 
ever  fallen  to  the  mass  hl  men  in  any  community. 

IV. — As  to  the  substance  of  the  Moral  Code,  he  makes  no 
innovations.  He  talks  somewhat  more  lightly  of  the  evils  of 
Unchastity  than  is  customary ;  but  regards  the  prevailing 
restraints  as  borne  out  by  Utility. 

The  inducements  to  virtue  are,  in  his  view,  our  humane 
sentiments,  on  the  one  hand,  and  our  self-love,  or  prudence, 
on  the  other ;  the  two  classes  of  motives  conspiring  to  pro- 
mote both  our  own  good  and  the  good  of  mankind. 

V.  —The  connexion  of  Ethics  with  Politics  is  not  specially 
brought  out.  The  political  virtues  are  moral  virtues.  He 
does  not  dwell  upon  the  sanctions  of  morality,  so  as  to  dis- 
tinguish the  legal  sanction  from  the  popular  sanction.  He 
draws  no  line  between  Duty  and  Merit. 

VI. — He  recognizes  no  relationship  between  Ethics  and 
Theology.  The  principle  of  Benevolence  in  the  human  mind 
is,  he  thinks,  an  adequate  source  of  moral  approbation  and 
disapprobation  ;  and  he  takes  no  note  of  what  even  sceptics 
(Gibbon,  for  example)  often  dwe  1  upon,  the  aid  of  the  Theo- 
logical sanction  in  enforcing  duties  imperfectly  felt  by  the 
natural  and  unprompted  sentiments  of  the  mind. 

RICHARD  PRICE.         (1723-1791.) 

Price's  work  is  entitled,  '  A  Review  of  the  principal  ques- 
tions in  Morals ;  particularly  those  respecting  the  Origin  of 
our  Ideas  of  Virtue,  its  Nature,  Relation  to  the  Deity,  O'oli- 
gation,  Subject-matrer,  and  Sanctions,'  In  the  third  edition, 
he  added  an  Appendix  on  'the  Being  and  Attributes  of  the 
Deity.' 

The  book  is  divided  into  ten  chapters. 

Chapter  I.  is  on  the  origin  of  our  Ideas  of  Right  and 
Wrong.  The  actions  of  moral  agents,  he  says,  give  rise  in  us 
to  three   difierent  perceptions:    1st,  Right  and  Wrong;   2nd, 


IDEAS   OF  EIGHT  AND   WKOFG.  197 

Beauty  and  Deformity ;  3rd,  Good  or  HI  Desert.  It  is  the 
first  of  these  perceptions  that  he  proposes  mainly  to  consider. 

He  commences  by  quoting  Hatcheson's  doctrine  of  a 
Moral  Sense,  which  he  describes  as  an  implanted  and  arbitrary 
principle,  imparting  a  relish  or  disrelish  for  actions,  like  the 
sensibilities  of  the  various  senses.  On  this  doctrine,  he 
remarks,  the  Creator  might  have  annexed  the  same  sentiments 
to  the  opposite  actions.  Other  schemes  of  morality,  such  as 
Self-love,  Positive  Laws  and  Compacts,  the  Will  of  the 
Deity,  he  dismisses  as  not  meeting  the  true  question. 

The  question,  as  conceived  by  him,  is,  '  What  is  the  power 
within  us  that  perceives  the  distinctions  of  Right  and  Wrong?* 
The  answer  is,  The  Understanding. 

To  establish  this  position,  he  enters  into  an  enquiry  into 
the  distinct  provinces  of  Sense  and  of  Understanding  in  the 
origin  of  our  ideas.  It  is  plain,  he  says,  that  what  judges 
concerning  the  perceptions  of  the  senses,  and  contradicts 
their  decisions,  cannot  itself  be  sense,  but  must  be  some 
nobler  faculty.  Likewise,  the  power  that  views  and  compares 
the  objects  of  all  the  senses  cannot  be  sense.  Sense  is  a  mere 
capacity  of  being  passiv^ely  impressed;  it  presents  particular 
forms  to  the  mind,  and  is  incapable  of  discovering  general 
truths.  It  is  the  understanding  that  perceives  order  or  pro- 
portion ;  variety  and  regularity  ;  design,  connexion,  art,  and 
power;  aptitudes,  dependence,  correspondence,  and  adjust- 
ment of  parts  to  a  whole  or  to  an  end.  He  goes  over  our 
leading  ideas  in  detail,  to  show  that  mere  sense  cannot  furnish 
them.  Thus,  Solidity,  or  Impenetrability,  needs  an  exertion 
of  reason;  we  must  compare  instances  to  know  that  two 
atoms  of  matter  cannot  occupy  the  same  space.  Vis  Inertim 
is  a  perception  of  the  reason.  So  Substance,  Duration,  Space, 
Necessary  Existence,  Power,  and  Causation  involve  the  under- 
standing. Likewise,  that  all  Abstract  Ideas  whatsoever  require 
the  understanding  is  superfluously  proved.  The  author 
wonders,  therefore,  that  his  position  in  this  matter  should  not 
have  been  sooner  arrived  at. 

The  tracing  of  Agreement  and  of  Disagreement,  which  are 
functions  of  the  Understanding,  is  really  the  source  of  simple 
ideas.  Thus,  Equality  is  a  simple  idea  originating^  in  this 
source;  so  are  Proportion,  Identity  and  Diversity,  Existence, 
Cause  and  Effect,  Power,  Possibility  and  Impossibility;  and 
(as  he  means  ultimately  to  show)  Risrht  and  Wrong. 

Although  the  author's  exposition  is  not  very  lucid,  his 
main  conclusion  is  a  sound   one.     Sense,   in   its   narrowest 


198  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — PRICE. 

acceptation,  gives  particular  impressions  and  experiences  of 
Colour,  Sound,  Touch,  Taste,  Odour,  &c.  The  Intellectual 
functions  of  Discrimination  and  Agreement  are  necessary  as  a 
supplement  to  Sense,  to  recognize  these  impressions  as  diflfer- 
ing  and  agreeing,  as  Equal  or  Unequal ;  Proportionate  op 
Disproportionate ;  Harmonious  or  Discordant.  And  farther, 
every  abstract  or  general  notion, —  colours  in  the  abstract, 
sweetness,  pungency,  &c. — supposes  these  powers  of  the 
understanding  in  addition  to  the  recipiency  of  the  senses. 

To  apply  this  to  Right  and  Wrong,  the  author  begins  by 
affirming  [what  goes  a  good  way  towards  begging  the  ques- 
tion] that  right  and  wrong  are  simple  ideas,  and  therefore  the 
result  of  an  immediate  power  of  perception  in  the  human 
mind.  Beneficence  and  Cruelty  are  indefinable,  and  therefore 
ultimate.  There  must  be  some  actions  that  are  in  the  last 
resort  an  end  in  themselves.  This  being  assumed,  the  author 
contends  that  the  power  of  immediately  perceiving  these 
ultimate  ideas  is  the  Understanding.  Shaftesbury  had  con- 
tended that,  because  the  perception  of  right  and  wrong  was 
immediate,  therefore  it  must  reside  in  a  special  Sense.  The 
conclusion,  thinks  Price,  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  hasty ;  for 
it  does  not  follow  that  every  immediate  perception  should 
reside  in  a  special  sensibility  or  sense.  He  puts  it  to  each 
one's  experience  whether,  in  conceiving  Gratitude  or  Benefi- 
cence to  be  right,  one  feels  a  sensation  merely,  or  performs  an 
act  of  understanding  'Would  not  a  Being  purely  intelligent, 
having  happiness  within  his  reach,  approve  of  securing  it  for 
himself?  Would  he  not  think  this  right;  and  would  it  not 
be  right  ?  When  we  contemplate  the  happiness  of  a  species,  op 
of  a  world,  and  pronounce  on  the  actions  of  reasonable  beings 
which  promote  it,  that  they  are  right,  is  this  judging  errone- 
ously? Or  is  it  no  determination  of  the  judgment  at  all,  bat 
a  sj)ecies  of  mental  taste  [as  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson  sup- 
posed] ?  [As  against  a  moral  sense,  this  reasoning  may  be 
effective;  but  it  obviously  assumes  an  end  of  desire, — happi- 
ness for  self,  or  for  others — and  yet  does  not  allow  to  that  end 
any  share  in  making  up  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong.]  Every 
one,  the  author  goes  on  to  say,  must  desire  happiness  for 
himself;  and  our  rational  nature  thenceforth  must  approve  of 
the  actions  for  promoting  happiness,  and  disapprove  of 
the  contrary  actions.  Surely  the  understanding  has  some 
share  in  the  revulsion  that  we  feel  when  any  one  brings  upon 
himself,  or  upon  others,  calamity  and  ruin.  A  being  tiattered 
with  hopes  of  bliss  and   then  plunged  into  torments  would 


MORALITY   DETERMINED   BY  THE   UNDERSTANDING.     199 

complain  jiisthj ;  he  would  consider  that  violence  had  been 
done  to  a  perception  of  the  human  understanding. 

He  next  brings  out  a  metaphysical  difficulty  in  applying 
right  and  wrong  to  actions,  on  the  supposition  that  they  are 
mere  effects  of  sensation.  All  sensations,  as  such,  are  modes 
of  consciousness,  or  feelings,  of  a  sentient  being,  and  must  be 
of  a  nature  different  from  their  causes.  Colour  is  in  the  mind, 
not  an  attribute  of  the  object;  but  right  and  wrong  are  quali- 
ties of  actions,  of  objects,  and  therefore  must  be  ideas,  not 
sensations.  Then,  again,  there  can  be  nothing  true  or  untrue 
in  a  sensation  :  all  sensations  are  alike  just ;  while  the  moral 
rectitude  of  an  action  is  something  absolute  and  unvarying. 
Lastly,  all  actions  have  a  nature,  or  character  ;  something 
truly  belonging  to  them,  and  truly  affirmable  of  them.  If 
actions  have  no  character,  then  they  are  all  indifferent ;  but 
this  no  one  can  affirm  ;  we  all  strongly  believe  the  contrary. 
Actions  are  not  indifferent.  They  are  good  or  bad,  better  or 
worse.  And  if  so,  they  are  declared  such  by  an  act  of  judg' 
menf,  a  function  of  the  understanding. 

The  author,  considering  his  thesis  established,  deduces 
from  it  the  corollar\-,  that  morality  is  eternal  and  immutable. 
As  an  object  of  the  Understand mg,  it  has  an  invariable 
essence.  No  will,  not  even  Omnipotence,  can  make  things 
other  than  they  are.  Right  and  wrong,  as  far  as  they  express 
tlie  real  characters  of  actions,  must  immutably  and  necessarily 
belong  to  the  actions.  By  action,  is  of  course  understood  not 
a  bare  external  effect,  but  an  effect  taken  along  with  its  prin- 
ciple or  rule,  the  motives  or  reasons  of  the  being  that  performs 
it.  The  matter  of  an  action  being  the  same,  its  morality 
reposes  upon  the  end  or  motive  of  the  agent.  Nothing  can  be 
obligatory  in  us  that  was  not  so  from  eternity.  The  will  of 
God  could  not  make  a  thing  right  that  was  not  right  in  its 
own  nature. 

The  author  closes  his  first  chapter  with  a  criticism  of  the 
doctrine  of  Protagoras — that  man  is  the  measure  of  all  things 
— interpreting  it  as  ano^lier  phase  of  the  view  that  he  is  com- 
bating. 

Although  this  chapter  is  but  a  small  part  of  the  work,  it 
completes  the  author's  demonstration  of  his  ethical  theory. 

Chapter  II.  is  on  '  our  Ideas  of  the  Beauty  and  Deformity 
of  Actions.'  By  these  are  meant  our  pleasurable  and  painful 
sentiments,  arising  from  the  consideration  of  moral  right  and 
wrong,  expressed  by  calling  some  actions  amiable,  and  others 
odious,  shocking,  vile.     Although,  in  this  aspect  of  actions, 


200  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— PRICE. 

it  would  seera  that  tlie  reference  to  a  sense  is  the  suitable  ex- 
planation, he  still  contends  for  the  intervention  of  the  Under- 
standing. The  character  of  the  Deity  mnst  appear  more 
amiable  the  better  it  is  known  and  underslood.  A  reasonable 
being,  without  any  special  sensibilities,  but  knowing  what 
order  and  happiness  are,  would  receive  pleasure  from  the  con- 
templation of  a  universe  where  order  prevailed,  and  pain  from 
a  prospect  of  the  contrary.  To  behold  virtue  is  to  admire  her  ; 
to  perceive  vice  is  to  be  moved  to  condemnation.  There  must 
always  be  a  consideration  of  the  circumstances  of  an  action, 
and  this  involves  intellectual  discernment. 

The  author  now  qualifies  his  doctrine  by  the  remark,  that 
to  some  superior  beings  the  intellectual  discernment  may 
explain  the  whole  of  the  appearances,  but  inferior  natures, 
such  as  the  human,  are  aided  by  instinctive  determinations. 
Oar  appetites  and  passions  are  too  strong  for  reason  by  itself, 
especially  in  early  years.  Hence  he  is  disposed  to  conclude 
that  *  in  contemplating  the  actions  of  moral  agents,  we  have 
both  a  loercejption  of  the  understanding  and  a  feeling  oftJie  heart  ;^ 
but  that  this  feeling  of  the  heart,  while  partly  instinctive,  is 
mainly  a  sense  of  congruity  and  incongruity  in  actions.  The 
author  therefore  allows  something  to  innate  sense,  but  diffcT'S 
from  Shaftesbury,  who  makes  the  whole  a  matter  of  intuitive 
determination. 

Chapter  III.  relates  to  the  origin  of  our  Desires  and 
Affections,  by  which  he  means  more  especially  Self-love  and 
Benevolence.  His  position  here  is  that  Self-love  is  the  essence 
of  a  Sensible  being,  Benevolence  the  essential  of  an  Intelligent 
being.  By  the  very  nature  of  our  sensitive  constitution,  we 
cannot  but  choose  happiness  for  self;  and  it  is  only  an  act  of 
intellectual  consistency  to  extend  the  same  measure  to  others. 
The  same  qualification,  however,  is  made  as  to  the  insufficiency 
of  a  mere  intellectual  impulse  in  this  matter,  without  consti- 
tutional tendencies.  These  constitutional  tendencies  the 
author  considers  as  made  up  of  our  Appetites  and  Passions, 
while  our  Affections  are  founded  on  our  rational  nature. 
Then  follow  a  few  observations  in  confirmation  of  Butler's 
views  as  to  the  disinterested  nature  of  our  affections. 

Chapter  TV.  is  on  our  Ideas  of  good  and  ill  Desert.  These 
are  only  a  variety  of  our  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  being  the 
feelings  excited  towards  the  moral  Agent.  Our  reason  deter- 
mines, with  regard  to  a  virtuous  agent,  that  lie  ought  to  be 
the  better  for  his  virtue.  The  ground  of  such  determination, 
however,  is  not  solely  that  virtuous   conduct  promotes  the 


MORAX  ATTRIBUTES   OF  THE  DEITY.  201 

Happiness  of  mankind,  and  vice  detracts  from  it ;  this  counts 
for  much,  but  not  for  all.  Virtue  is  in  itself  rewardable ; 
vice  is  of  essential  demerit.  Our  understanding  recognizes 
the  absolute  and  eternal  rectitude,  the  intrinsic  fitness  of  the 
procedure  in  both  aspects. 

Chapter  V.  is  entitled  *  Of  the  Reference  of  Morality  to 
the  Divine  Nature ;  the  Rectitude  of  our  Faculties ;  and  the 
Grounds  of  Belief.'  The  author  means  to  reply  to  the  objec- 
tion that  his  system,  in  setting  up  a  criterion  independent  of 
God,  is  derogatory  to  the  Divine  nature.  He  urges  that  there 
must  be  attributes  of  the  Deity,  independent  of  his  will ;  as 
his  Existence,  Immensity,  Power,  Wisdom;  that  Mind  sup- 
poses Truth  apart  from  itself;  that  without  moral  distinctions 
there  could  be  no  Moral  Attributes  in  the  Deity.  Certain 
things  are  inherent  in  his  Nature,  and  not  dependent  on  his 
will.  There  is  a  limit  to  the  universe  itself;  two  infinities  of 
space  or  of  duration  are  not  possible.  Tlie  necessary  good- 
ness of  the  divine  nature  is  a  part  of  necessary  truth.  Thus, 
morality,  although  not  asserted  to  depend  on  the  will  of  the 
Deity,  is  still  resolvable  into  his  nature.  In  all  this.  Price 
avowedly  follows  Cud  worth. 

He  then  starts  another  difficulty.  May  not  our  faculties 
be  mistaken,  or  be  so  constituted  as  to  deceive  us  r  To  which 
he  gives  the  reply,  made  familiar  to  us  by  Hamilton,  that  the 
doubt  is  suicidal;  the  faculty  that  donMs  being  itself  under 
the  same  imputation.  Nay,  more,  a  being  cannot  be  made 
such  as  to  be  imposed  on  by  falsehood ;  what  is  false  is 
nothing.  As  to  the  cases  of  actual  mistake,  these  refer  to 
matters  attended  with  some  difficulty ;  and  it  does  not  follow 
that  we  must  be  mistaken  in  cases  that  are  clear. 

He  concludes  with  a  statement  of  the  ultimate  grounds  of 
our  belief.  These  are,  (1)  Consciousness  or  Feeling,  as  in 
regard  to  our  own  existence,  our  sensations,  passions,  &c.; 
(2)  Intuition,  comprising  self-evident  truths;  and  (3)  Deduc- 
tion, or  Argumentation.  He  discusses  under  these  the  exist- 
ence of  a  material  world,  and  affirms  that  we  have  an  Intuition 
that  it  is  possible. 

Chapter  VI.  considers  Fitness  and  Moral  Obligation,  and 
other  p.'evailing  forms  of  expression  regarding  morality. 
Fitness  and  Unfitness  denote  Congrnity  or  Incongruity,  and 
are  necessarily  a  perception  of  the  Understanding. 

The  term  Obligation  is  more  perplexing.  Still,  it  is  but 
another  name  for  Tightness.  What  is  Right  is,  by  that  very- 
fact,  obligatory.     Obligation,  therefore,  cannot  be  the  creature 


202  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— PRICE. 

of  law,  for  law  may  command  what  is  morally  wrong.  The 
will  of  God  enforced  by  rewards  and  punishments  cannot 
make  right ;  it  would  only  determine  what  is  prudent.  Re- 
wards and  punishments  do  not  make  obligation,  but  suppose 
it.  Rectitude  is  a  Law,  the  authoritative  guide  of  a  rational 
being.  It  is  Supreme,  universal,  unalterable,  and  indispen- 
sable. Self-valid  and  self-originated,  it  stands  on  immovable 
foundations.  Being  the  one  authority  in  nature,  it  is,  in 
short,  the  Divine  authority.  Even  the  obligations  of  religion 
are  but  branches  of  universal  rectitude.  The  Sovereign 
Authority  is  not  the  mere  result  of  his  Almighty  Power,  but 
of  this  conjoined  with  his  necessary  perfections  and  infinite 
excellence. 

He  does  not  admit  that  obligation  implies  an  obligor. 

He  takes  notice  of  the  objection  that  certain  actions  may 
be  right,  and  yet  we  are  not  bound  to  perform  them  ;  such  are 
acts  of  generosity  and  kindness.  But  his  answer  throws  no 
farther  light  on  his  main  doctrine. 

In  noticing  the  theories  of  other  writers  in  the  same  vein, 
as  Wollaston,  he  takes  occasion  to  remark  that,  together  with 
the .  perception  of  conformity  or  fitness,  there  is  a  simple 
immediate  perception  urging  us  to  act  according  to  that 
fitness,  for  which  no  farther  reason  can  be  assigned.  When 
we  compare  innocence  and  eternal  misery,  we  are  struck  with 
the  idea  of  unsuitablenc  ^s,  and  are  inspired  in  consequence 
with  intense  repugnance. 

Chapter  VII.  discusses  the  Heads  or  Divisions  of  Virtue; 
under  which  he  enquires  first  what  are  virtuous  actions; 
secondly,  what  is  the  true  principle  or  motive  of  a  virtuous 
agent ;  and  thirdly,  the  estimate  of  the  degrees  of  virtue. 

He  first  quotes  Butler  to  show  that  all  virtue  is  not 
summed  up  in  Benevolence ;  repeating  that  there  is  an  in- 
trinsic rectitude  in  keeping  faith ;  and  giving  the  usual  argu- 
ments against  Utility,  grounded  on  the  supposed  crimes  that 
might  be  committed  on  this  plea.  He  is  equally  opposed  to 
those  that  would  deny  disinterested  benevolence,  or  would 
resolve  beneficence  into  veracit3^  He  urges  against  Hutcheson, 
that,  these  being  independent  and  distinct  virtues,  a  distinct 
sense  would  be  necessary  to  each ;  in  other  words,  we  should, 
for  the  whole  of  virtue,  need  a  plurality  of  moral  senses. 

His  classification  of  Virtue  comprehends  (1)  Duty  to  God, 
which  he  dilates  upon  at  some  length.  (2)  Duty  to  Ourselves, 
wherein  he  maintains  that  our  sense  of  self-interest  is  not 
enough  for  us.  (3)  Beneficence,  the  Good  of  others.  (4)  Grati- 


PRACTICAL   MORALITY.  203 

tnde.  (5)  Veracity,  which  he  inculcates  with  great  earnest- 
ness, adverting  especially  to  impartiality  and  honesty  in  onr 
enquiries  after  truth.  (6)  Justice,  which  he  treats  in  its  appli- 
cation to  the  Rights  of  Property.  He  considers  that  the 
diificulties  in  practice  arise  partly  from  the  conflict  of  the 
different  heads,  and  partly  from  the  different  modes  of  apply- 
ing the  same  principles ;  which  he  gives  as  an  answer  to  the 
objection  from  the  great  differences  of  men's  moral  sentiments 
and  practices.  He  allows,  besides,  that  custom,  education, 
and  example,  may  blind  and  deprave  our  intellectual  and 
moral  powers ;  but  denies  that  the  whole  of  our  notions  and 
sentiments  could  result  from  education.  No  amount  of  depra- 
vity is  able  utterly  to  destroy  our  moral  discernment. 

Chapter  YllL  treats  ot  Intention  as  au  element  in  virtuous 
action.  He  makes  a  distinction  between  Virtue  in  the 
Abstract  and  Virtue  in  Practice,  or  with  reference  to  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  agent.  A  man  may  do  abstract  wrong, 
through  mistake,  while  as  he  acts  with  his  best  judgment  and 
with  upright  intentions,  he  is  practically  right.  He  grounds 
on  this  a  powerful  appeal  against  every  attempt  at  dominion 
over  conscience.  The  requisites  of  Practical  Morality  are  (1) 
Liberty,  or  Free-will,  on  which  he  takes  the  side  of  free-agency. 
(2)  Intelligence,  without  w^hich  there  can  be  no  perception  of 
good  and  evil,  and  no  moral  agency.  (3)  The  Consciousness 
of  Rectitude,  or  Righteous  Intention.  On  this  he  dw^ls  at 
some  length.  ISTo  action  is  properly  the  action  of  a  moral 
agent  unless  designed  by  him.  A  virtuous  motive  is  essential 
to  virtue.  On  the  question — Is  Benevolence  a  virtuous  motive? 
lie  replies  :  Not  the  Instinctive  benevolence  of  the  parent,  but 
only  Rational  benevolence ;  which  he  allows  to  coincide  with 
rectitude.  Reason  presiding  over  Self-love  renders  it  a  virtuous 
principle  likewise.  The  presence  of  Reason  in  greater  or  less 
degree  is  the  criterion  of  the  greater  or  less  virtue  of  any 
action. 

Chapter  IX.  is  on  the  different  Degrees  of  Virtue  and  Vice, 
and  the  modes  of  estimating  them  ;  the  DiflBculties  attending 
the  Practice  of  Virtue;  the  use  of  Trials,  and  the  essentials  of 
a  good  or  a  bad  Character.  The  considerations  adduced  are 
a  number  of  perfectly  well-known  maxims  on  the  practice  of 
morality,  and  scarcely  add  anything  to  the  elucidation  of  the 
author's  Moral  Theory.  The  concluding  chaj^ter,  on  Natural 
Religion,  contains  nothing  original. 

To  sura  up  the  views  of  Price  : — 

I. — As  regards  the  Moral  Standard,  he  asserts  that  a  percep* 


204  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— PRICE. 

tion  of  the  Reason  or  the  Understanding, — a  sense  of  fitness  or 
congruity  between  actions  and  the  agents,  and  all  the  circum- 
stances attending  them, — is  what  determines  Right  and  Wrong. 

He  finds  it  impracticable  to  maintain  his  position  without 
sundry  qualifications,  as  we  have  seen.  Virtue  is  naturally 
adapted  to  please  every  observing  mind ;  vice  the  contrary. 
Right  actions  must  be  grateful,  wrong  ungrateful  to  us.  To 
behold  virtue  is  to  admire  her.  In  contemplating  the  actions 
of  moral  agents,  we  have  both  a  perception  of  the  under- 
standing and  a  feehng  of  the  heart.  He  thus  re-admits  an 
element  of  feeling,  along  with  the  intellect,  in  some  undefined 
degree  ;  contending  only  that  all  tyioralUy  is  not  to  be  resolved 
into  feeling  or  instinct.  We  have  also  noticed  another  singu- 
lar admission,  to  the  effect  that  only  superior  natures  can  dis- 
cover virtue  by  the  understanding.  Reason  alone,  did  we 
possess  it  in  a  high  degree,  would  answer  all  the  ends  of  the 
passions.  Parental  afiection  would  be  unnecessary,  if  parents 
were  sufficiently  alive  to  the  reasons  of  supporting  the  young, 
and  were  virtuous  enough  to  be  always  determined  by  them. 

Utility,  although  not  the  sole  ground  of  Justice,  is  yet  ad- 
mitted to  be  one  important  reason  or  ground  of  many  of  its 
maxims. 

II. — The  nature  of  the  Moral  Faculty,  in  Price's  theory, 
is  not  a  separate  question  from  the  standard,  but  the  same 
question.  His  discussion  takes  the  form  of  an  enquiry  into 
the  Faculty: — 'What  is  the  pow^c-  within  us  that  perceives 
the  distinctions  of  Right  and  Wrong  ?  '  The  two  questions 
are  mixed  up  throughout,  to  the  detriment  of  precision  in  the 
reasoning. 

With  his  usual  facility  of  making  concessions  to  other 
principles,  he  says  it  is  not  easy  to  determine  how  far  our 
natural  sentiments  may  be  altered  by  custom,  education,  and 
example:  while  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  conclude  that  all 
is  derived  from  these  sources.  That  part  of  our  moral 
constitution  depending  on  instinct  is  liable  to  be  corrupted 
by  custom  and  education  to  almost  any  length  ;  but  the  most 
depraved  can  never  sink  so  low  as  to  lose  all  moral  dis- 
cernment, all  ideas  of  just  and  unjust ;  of  which  he  offers  the 
singular  proof  that  men  are  never  wanting  in  resentment  when 
they  are  themselves  the  objects  of  ill-treatment. 

As  regards  the  Psychology  of  Disinterested  Action,  he  pro- 
vides nothing  but  a  repetition  of  Butler  (Chapter  III.)  and  a 
vague  assertion  of  the  absurdity  of  denying  disinterested 
benevolence. 


WOEKINGS   OF  SYMPATHY.  205 

IIL — On  Human  Happiness,  lie  has  only  a  few  genzvaX 
remarks.  Happiness  is  an  object  of  essential  and  eternal 
value.  Happiness  is  the  end,  and  the  OJihj  end,  conceivable 
by  us,  of  God's  providence  and  government ;  but  He  pursues 
this  end  in  subordination  to  rectitude.  Virtue  J:ends  to 
happiness,  but  does  not  always  secure  it.  A  person  tha^ 
sacrifices  his  life  rather  than  violate  his  conscience,  or  betraj 
his  country,  gives  up  all  possibility  of  any  present  reward^ 
and  loses  the  more  in  proportion  as  his  virtae  is  more  glorious. 

Neither  on  the  Moral  Code,  nor  in  the  relations  of  Ethica 
to  PoUtics  and  to  Theology,  are  any  further  remarks  on 
Price  called  for. 

ADAM  SMITH.         [1723-90.] 

The  *  Theory  of  the  Moral  Sentiments '  is  a  work  of  great 
extent  and  elaboration.  It  is  divided  into  five  Parts  ;  each 
part  being  again  divided  into  Sections,  and  these  subdivided 
into  Chapters. 

Part  I.  is  entitled.  Of  the  Propriety  of  AcriON.  Section 
I.  is,  '  Of  the  Sense  of  Projjrietij,'  Propriety  is  his  word  for 
Rectitude  or  Right. 

Chapter  I.,  entitled,  '  Of  Sympathy,'  is  a  felicitous  illus- 
tration of  the  general  nature  and  workings  of  Sympathy. 
He  calls  in  the  experience  of  all  mankind  to  attest  the 
existence  of  our  sympathetic  impulses.  He  shows  through 
what  medium  sympathy  operates ;  namely,  by  our  placing 
ourselves  in  the  situation  of  the  other  party,  and  imagining 
what  we  should  feel  in  that  case.  He  produces  the  most 
notable  examples  of  the  impressions  made  on  us  by  our 
witnessing  the  actions,  the  pleasurable  and  the  painful  ex- 
pression of  others ;  effects  extending  even  to  fictitious  repre- 
sentations. He  then  remarks  that,  although  on  some  occasions, 
we  take  on  simply  and  purely  the  feelings  manifested  in  our 
presence, — the  grief  or  joy  of  another  man,  yet  this  is  far  from 
the  universal  case :  a  display  of  angry  passion  may  produce 
in  us  hostility  and  disgust;  but  this  very  result  may  be 
owing  to  our  sympathy  for  the  person  likely  to  suffer  from 
the  anger.  So  our  sympathy  for  grief  or  for  joy  is  imperfect 
until  we  know  the  cause,  and  may  be  entirely  suppressed. 
We  take  the  whole  situation  into  view,  as  well  as  the  expression 
of  the  feeling.  Hence  we  often  feel  for  another  person  what 
that  person  does  not  feel  for  himself;  we  act  out  our  own 
view  of  the  situation,  not  his.  We  feel  for  the  insane  what 
they  do  not  feel ;  we  sympathize  even  with  the  dead. 


206  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ^ADAM  SMITH. 

Chapter  11.  is  *  Of  the  Pleasure  of  Mutual  Sympathy.'  It 
contains  illustrations  of  the  delight  that  we  experience  in  the 
sympathy  of  others  ;  we  being  thereby  strengthened  in  our  plea- 
sures and  relieved  in  our  miseries.  He  observes  that  we 
demand  this  sympathy  more  urgently  for  our  painful  emotions 
than  for  such  as  are  pleasurable ;  we  are  especially  intolerant 
of  the  omission  of  our  friends  to  join  in  our  resentments.  On 
the  other  hand,  we  feel  pleasure  in  the  act  of  sympathizing, 
and  find  in  that  a  compensation  for  the  pain  that  the  sight  of 
pain  gives  us.  Still,  this  pleasure  may  be  marred  if  the  other 
party's  own  expression  of  grief  or  of  joy  is  beyond  what  we 
think  suitable  to  the  situation. 

Chapter  III.  considers  '  the  manner  of  our  judging  of  the 
propriety  of  other  men's  afi'ections  by  their  consonance  with 
our  own.'  The  author  illustrates  the  obvious  remark,  that 
we  approve  of  the  passions  of  another,  if  they  are  such  as  we 
ourselves  should  feel  in  the  same  situation.  We  require  that 
a  man's  expression  and  conduct  should  be  suitable  to  the 
occasion,  according  to  our  own  standard  of  judging,  namely, 
our  own  procedure  in  such  cases. 

Chapter  IV.  continues  the  subject,  and  draws  a  distinction 
between  two  cases;  the  case  where  the  objects  of  a  feeling  do 
not  concern  either  ourselves  or  the  person  himself,  and  the 
case  where  they  do  concern  one  or  other.  The  first  case  is 
shown  in  matters  of  taste  and  science,  where  we  derive 
pleasure  from  sympathy,  but  yet  can  tolerate  difference.  The 
otlier  case  is  exemplified  in  our  personal  fortunes  ;  in  these,  we 
cannot  endure  any  one  refusing  us  their  sympathy.  Still,  it 
is  to  be  noted  that  the  sympathizer  does  not  fully  attain  the 
level  of  the  sufierer ;  hence  the  sufferer,  aware  of  this,  and 
desiring  the  satisfaction  of  a  full  accord  with  his  friend,  tones 
down  his  own  vehemence  till  it  can  be  fnlly  met  by  the  other ; 
which  very  circumstance  is  eventually  for  his  own  good,  and 
adds  to,  rather  than  detracts  from,  the  tranquillizing  influence 
of  a  friendly  presence.  We  sober  down  our  feelings  still  more 
before  casual  acquaintance  and  strangers  *,  and  hence  the 
greater  equality  of  temper  in  the  man  of  the  world  than  in 
the  recluse. 

Chapter  Y.  makes  an  application  of  these  remarks  to  ex- 
plain the  difference  between  the  Amiable  and  the  Respectable 
Virtues.  The  soft,  the  gentle,  and  the  amiable  qualities  are 
manifested  when,  as  sympathizers,  we  enter  fully  into  the 
expressed  sentiments  of  another  ;  the  great,  the  awful  and 
respectable  virtues  of  self-denial,  are  shown  when  the  princi* 


THE  PASSIONS  AS  CONSISTENT   WITH  PROPRIETY.     207 

pal  person  concerned  brings  down  his  own  case  to  the  level 
that  the  most  ordinary  sympathy  can  easily  attain  to.  The 
one  is  the  virtue  of  giving  much,  the  other  of  expecting  little. 

Section  II.  is  '  Of  the  Degrees  of  the  different  passioiis  which 
are  consistent  with  propriety.''  Under  this  head  he  reviews  the 
leading  passions,  remarks  how  far,  and  why,  we  can  sympa- 
thize with  each. 

Chapter  I.  is  on  the  Passions  having  their  origin  in  the 
body.  We  can  sympathize  with  hunger  to  a  certain  limited 
extent,  and  in  certain  circumstances ;  but  we  can  rarely 
tolerate  any  very  prominent  expression  of  it.  The  same 
limitations  apply  to  the  passion  of  the  sexes.  We  partly 
sympathize  with  bodily  pain,  but  not  with  the  violent  expres- 
sion of  it.  These  feelings  are  in  marked  contrast  to  the 
passions  seated  in  the  imagination  :  wherein  our  appetite  for 
sympathy  is  complete ;  disappointed  love  or  ambition,  loss  of 
friends  or  of  dignity,  are  suitable  to  representation  in  art. 
On  the  same  principle,  we  can  sympathize  with  danger  ;  as 
regards  our  power  of  conceiving,  we  are  on  a  level  with  the 
sufferer.  From  our  inability  to  enter  into  bodily  pain,  we  the 
more  admire  the  man  that  can  bear  it  with  firmness. 

Chapter  II.  is  on  certain  Passions  depending  on  a  peculiar 
turn  of  the  Imagination.  Under  this  he  exemplifies  cliiefly 
the  situation  of  two  lovers,  with  whose  passion,  in  its  inten- 
sity, a  third  person  cannot  sympathize,  although  one  may  enter 
into  the  hopes  of  happiness,  and  into  the  dangers  and  calami- 
ties often  flowing  from  it. 

Chapter  III.  is  on  the  Unsocial  Passions.  These  neces- 
sarily divide  our  sympathy  between  him  that  feels  them  and 
him  that  is  their  object.  Resentment  is  especially  hard  to 
sympathize  with.  We  may  ourselves  resent  wrong  done  to 
another,  but  the  less  so  that  the  sufferer  strongly  resents  it. 
Moreover,  there  is  in  the  passion  itself  an  element  of  the  dis- 
agreeable and  repulsive  ;  its  manifestation  is  naturally  dis- 
tasteful. It  may  be  useful  and  even  necessary,  but  so  is  a 
prison,  which  is  not  on  that  account  a  pleasant  object.  In 
order  to  make  its  gratification  agreeable,  there  must  be  many 
well  known  conditions  and  qualifications  attending  it. 

Chajiter  lY.  gives  the  contrast  of  the  Social  Passions.  It 
is  with  the  humane,  the  benevolent  sentiments,  that  our  sym- 
pathy is  unrestricted  and  complete.  Even  in  their  excess, 
they  never  inspire  aversion. 

Chapter  V.  is  on  the  Selfish  Passions.  He  supposes  these, 
in  regard  to  sympathy,  to  hold  a  middle  place  between  the 


208        ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— ADAM  SMITH. 

Bocial  and  the  nnsocial.  "We  sympathize  with  small  joys  and 
with  great  sorrows ;  and  not  with  great  joys  (which  dispense 
with  our  aid,  if  they  do  not  excite  our  envy)  or  with  small 
troubles. 

Section  III.  considers  the  effects  of  prosperity  and  adversity 
upon  the  judgments  of  manhind  regarding  propriety  of  action. 

Chapter  I.  puts  forward  the  proposition  that  our  sympathy 
with  sorrow,  although  more  lively  than  our  sympathy  with 
joy,  falls  short  of  the  intensity  of  feeling  in  the  person  con- 
cerned. It  is  agreeable  to  sympathize  with  joy,  and  we  do  so 
with  the  heart ;  the  painfulness  of  entering  into  grief  and 
misery  holds  ns  back.  Hence,  as  he  remarked  before,  the 
magnanimity  and  nobleness  of  the  man  that  represses  his 
woes,  and  does  not  exact  our  compassionate  participation. 

Chapter  II.  inquires  into  the  origin  of  Ambition,  and  of 
the  distinction  of  Ranks.  Proceeding  upon  the  principle  just 
enounced,  that  mankind  sympathize  with  joy  rather  than  with 
sorrow,  the  author  composes  an  exceedingly  eloquent  homily 
on  the  worship  paid  to  rank  and  greatness. 

Chapter  III.,  in  continuation  of  the  same  theme,  illustrates 
the  corruption  of  our  moral  sentiments,  arising  from  this 
worship  of  the  great.  '  We  frequently  see  the  respectful 
attentions  of  the  world  more  strongly  directed  towards  the 
rich  and  the  great,  than  towards  the  wise  and  the  virtuous.* 
*  The  external  graces,  the  frivolous  accomplishments  of  that 
impertinent  and  foolish  thing  called  a  man  of  fashion,  are 
commonly  more  admired  than  the  solid  and  masculine  virtues 
of  a  warrior,  a  statesman,  a  philosopher,  or  a  legislator.* 

Part  II.  is  Of  Merit  and  Demerit  ;  or  of  the  objects  op 
Heward  and  Punishment.     It  consists  of  three  Sections. 

Section  I.  is,  Of  the  Sense  of  Merit  and  Demerit, 

Chapter  I.  maintains  that  whatever  appears  to  be  the 
proper  object  of  gratitude,  appears  to  deserve  reward  ;  and 
that  whatever  appears  to  be  the  proper  object  of  resentment, 
appears  to  deserve  punishment.  The  author  distinguishes 
between  gratitude  and  mere  love  or  liking  ;  and,  obversely, 
between  resentment  and  hatred.  Love  makes  ns  pleased  to 
see  any  one  promoted  ;  but  gratitude  urges  us  to  be  ourselves 
the  instrument  of  their  promotion. 

Chapter  II.  determines  the  proper  objects  of  Gratitude  and 
Resentment,  these  being  also  the  proper  objects  of  Reward 
and  Punishment  respectively.  '  These,  as  well  as  all  the 
other  passions  of  human  nature,  seem  proper,  and  are  approved 
of,  when  the  heart  of  every  impartial  sijeciator  entirely  sympathizes 


MERIT   AND   DEMERIT.  209 

with  them,  when  every  indifferent  bj-stander  entirely  enters 
into,  and  goes  along  with  them.'  In  short,  a  good  moral 
decision  is  obtained  by  the  nnanimons  vote  of  all  impartial 
persons. 

This  view  is  in  accordance  with  the  course  taken  by  the 
mind  in  the  two  contrasting  situations.  In  sympathizing  with 
the  joy  of  a  prosperous  person,  we  approve  of  his  complacent 
and  grateful  sentiment  towards  the  author  of  his  prosperity  ; 
we  make  his  gratitude  our  own  :  in  sympathizing  with  sorrow, 
we  enter  into,  and  approve  of,  the  natural  resentment  towards 
the  agent  causing  it. 

Chapter  III.  remarks  that  where  we  do  not  approve  of  the 
conduct  of  the  person  conferring  the  benefit,  we  have  little 
sympathy  with  the  gratitude  of  the  receiver ;  we  do  not 
care  to  enter  into  the  gratitude  of  the  favourites  of  profligate 
monarchs. 

Chapter  lY.  supposes  the  case  of  our  approving  strongly 
the  conduct  and  the  motives  of  a  benefactor,  in  which  case  we 
sympathize  to  a  correspondiag  degree  with  the  gratitude  of 
the  receiver. 

Chapter  V.  sums  up  the  analysis  of  the  Sense  of  Merit  and 
of  Demerit  thus  : — The  sense  of  Merit  is  a  compound  senti- 
ment, made  up  of  two  distinct  emotions  ;  a  direct  s^mipathy 
with  the  sentiments  of  the  agent  (constituting  the  propriety 
of  the  action),  and  an  indirect  sympathy  with  the  gratitude  of 
the  recipient.  The  sense  of  Demerit  includes  a  direct  anti- 
pathy to  the  sentiments  of  the  agent,  and  an  indirect  sym- 
pathy with  the  resentment  of  the  sufferer. 

(Section  II.  is  Of  Justice  and  Beaeficnice. 

Chapter  I.  compares  the  two  virtues.  Actions  of  a  bene- 
ficent tendency,  from  proper  motives,  seem  aloie  to  require  a 
reward  ;  actions  of  a  hurtful  tendency,  from  improper  motives, 
seem  alone  to  deserve  punishment.  It  is  the  nature  of  Bene- 
ficence to  be  free  ;  the  mere  absence  of  it  does  not  expose  to 
punishment.  Of  all  the  duties  of  bene  Sconce,  the  one  most 
allied  to  perfect  obligation  is  gi^atitude  ;  but  although  we  talk 
of  the  debt  of  gratitude  (we  do  not  say  the  debt  of  charity'), 
we  do  not  punish  ingratitude. 

Resentment,  the  source  of  punishment,  i'?  given  for  defence 
against  positive  evil ;  we  emploj^  it  not  to  extort  benefits,  but  to 
repel  injuries.  Now,  the  injury  is  the  violation  of  Justice. 
The  sense  of  mankind  goes  along  with  the  employment  of 
violence  to  avenge  the  hurt  done  by  injustice,  to  prevent  the 
injury,  and  to  restrain  the  offender.     Beneficence,  then,  is  the 


210  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — ADAM   SMITH. 

subject  of  reward ;  and  the  want  of  it  is  not  the  subject  (rf 
punishment.  There  may  be  cases  where  a  beneficent  act  is 
compelled  by  punishment,  as  in  obliging  a  father  to  support 
his  family,  or  in  punishing  a  man  for  not  interfering  when 
another  is  in  danger  ;  but  these  cases  are  immaterial  excep- 
tions to  the  broad  definition.  He  might  have  added,  that  in 
cases  where  justice  is  performed  under  unusual  difficulties, 
and  with  unusual  fidelity,  our  disposition  would  be  not 
merely  to  exempt  from  punishment,  but  to  reward. 

Chapter  II.  considers  the  sense  of  Justice,  Remorse,  and 
the  feeling  of  Merit. 

Every  man  is  recommended  by  nature  to  his  own  care, 
being  fitter  to  take  care  of  himself  than  of  another  person. 
We  approve,  therefore,  of  each  one  seeking  their  own  good ; 
but  then  it  must  not  be  to  the  hurt  of  any  other  being.  The 
primary  feeling  of  self-preservation  would  not  of  itself,  how- 
ever, be  shocked  at  causing  injury  to  our  fellows.  It  is  when 
we  pass  out  of  this  point  of  view,  and  enter  into  the  mental 
state  of  the  spectator  of  our  actions,  that  we  feel  the  sense  of 
injustice  and  the  sting  of  Remorse.  Though  it  may  be  true  that 
every  individual  in  his  own  breast  prefers  himself  to  man- 
kind, yet  he  dares  not  look  mankind  in  the  face,  and  avow 
that  he  acts  on  this  principle.  A  man  is  approved  when  he 
outstrips  his  fellows  in  a  fair  race  ;  he  is  condemned  when  he 
jostles  or  trips  up  a  competitor  unfairly.  The  actor  takes 
home  to  himself  this  feeling ;  a  feeling  known  as  Shame, 
Dread  of  Punishment,  and  Remorse. 

So  with  the  obverse.  He  that  performs  a  generous  action 
can  realize  the  sentiments  of  the  by-stander,  and  applaud 
himself  by  sympathy  with  the  approbation  of  the  supposed 
impartial  judge.     This  is  the  sense  of  Merit. 

Chapter  III.  gives  reflections  upon  the  utility  of  this  con- 
stitution of  our  nature.  Human  beings  are  dependent  upon 
one  another  for  mutual  assistance,  and  are  exposed  to  mutual 
injuries.  Society  might  exist  without  love  or  beneficence, 
but  not  without  mutual  abstinence  from  injury.  Beneficence 
is  the  ornament  that  embellishes  the  building ;  Justice  the 
main  pillar  that  supports  it.  It  is  for  the  observance  of 
Justice  that  we  need  that  consciousness  of  ill-desert,  and  those 
terrors  of  mental  punishment,  growing  out  of  our  sympathy 
with  the  disapprobation  of  our  fellows.  Justice  is  necessary 
to  the  existence  of  society,  and  we  otten  defend  its  dictates  on 
that  ground  ;  but,  without  looking  to  such  a  remote  and  com- 
prehensive end,  we  are  plunged  into  remorse  for  ^^^  v-   ' 


INFLUENCE  OF  FORTUNE  ON  MEKIT  AND  DEMERIT.   211 

by  the  shorter  process  of  referring  to  the  censure  of  a  sup- 
posed spectator  [in  other  words,  to  the  sanction  of  public 
opinion]. 

Section  III. — Of  the  influence  of  Fortune  upon  the  senti- 
ments of  manlcind,  ivith  regard  to  the  Merit  and  the  Demerit  of 
actions. 

Every  voluntary  action  consists  of  three  parts : — (1)  the 
Intention  or  motive,  (2)  the  Mechanism,  as  when  we  lift  the 
hand,  and  give  a  blow,  and  (oj  the  Conset[uences.  It  is,  in 
principle,  admitted  by  all,  that  only  the  first,  the  Intention, 
can  be  the  subject  of  blame.  The  Mechanism  is  in  itself 
indifferent.  So  the  Consequences  cannot  be  properly  imputed 
to  the  agent,  unless  intended  by  him.  On  this  last  point, 
however,  mankind  do  not  always  adhere  to  their  general 
maxim;  when  they  come  to  particular  cases,  they  are  in- 
fluenced, in  their  estimate  of  merit  and  demerit,  by  the  actual 
consequences  of  the  action. 

Cliapterl.  considers  the  causes  of  this  influence  of  Fortune. 
Gratitude  requires,  in  the  first  instance,  that  some  pleasure 
should  have  been  conferred ;  Kesentment  pre-supposes  pain. 
These  passions  require  farther  that  the  object  of  them  should 
itself  be  susceptible  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  they  should  be 
human  beings  or  animals.  Thirdly,  It  is  requisite  that  they 
should  have  produced  the  effects  from  a  design  to  do  so. 
Now,  the  absence  of  the  pleasurable  consequences  intended  by 
a  beneficent  agent  leaves  out  one  of  the  exciting  causes  of 
gratitude,  although  including  another;  the  absence  of  the 
painful  consequences  of  a  maleficent  act  leaves  out  one  of 
the  exciting  causes  of  resentment ;  hence  less  gratitude  seems 
due  in  the  one,  and  less  resentment  in  the  other. 

Chapter  II.  treats  of  the  extent  of  this  influence  of  Fortune. 
The  effects  of  it  are,  first,  to  diminish,  in  our  eyes,  the  merit 
of  laudable,  and  the  demerit  of  blameable,  actions,  when  they 
fail  of  their  intended  effects  ;  and,  secondly,  to  increase  the 
feelings  of  merit  and  of  demerit  beyond  what  is  due  to  the 
motives,  when  the  actions  chance  to  be  followed  by  extra- 
ordinary pleasure  or  pain.  Success  enhances  our  estimate  of 
all  great  enterprises ;  failure  takes  off"  the  edge  of  our  resent- 
ment of  great  crimes. 

The  author  thinks  (Chapter  III.)  that  final  causes  can  be 
assigned  for  this  irregularity  of  Sentiments.  In  the  first 
place,  it  would  be  highly  dangerous  to  seek  out  and  to  resent 
mere  bad  intentions.  In  the  next  place,  it  is  desirable  that 
beneficent  wishes  should  be  put  to  the  proof  by  results.     And, 


212  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — ADAM   SMITH. 

lastly,  as  regards  the  tendency  to  resent  evil,  although  iiil» 
intended,  it  is  good  to  a  certain  extent  that  men  should  be 
taught  intense  circumspection  on  the  point  of  infringing 
one  another's  happiness. 

Part  III.  is  entitled  Of  the  Foundation  op  our  judgments 
concerning  our  own  sentiments  and  conduct,  and  of  the 
Sense  of  Duty. 

Chapter  I.  is  '  Of  the  Principle  of  Self-approbation  and  of 
Self-disapprobation.'  Having  previously  assigned  the  origin 
of  our  judgments  respecting  others,  the  author  now  proceeds 
to  trace  out  our  judgments  respecting  ourselves.  The  explana- 
tion is  still  the  same.  We  approve  or  disapprove  of  our  own 
conduct,  according  as  we  feel  that  the  impartial  spectator 
would  approve  or  disapprove  of  it. 

To  a  solitary  human  being,  moral  judgments  would  never 
exist.  A  man  would  no  more  think  of  the  merit  and  demerit 
of  his  sentiments  than  of  the  beauty  or  deformity  of  his  own 
face.  Such  criticism  is  exercised  iirst  upon  other  beings ;  but 
the  critic  cannot  help  seeing  that  he  in  his  turn  is  criticised, 
and  he  is  thereby  led  to  apply  the  common  standard  to  his 
own  actions;  to  divide  himself  as  it  were  into  two  persons — • 
the  examiner  or  judge,  and  person  examined  into,  or  judged 
of.  He  knows  what  cooduct  of  his  will  be  approved  of  by 
others,  and  what  condemned,  according  to  the  standard  he 
himself  employs  upon  others ;  his  concurrence  m  this  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation  is  self-approbation  or  self-disapproba- 
tion. The  happy  consciousness  of  virtue  is  the  consciousness 
of  the  favourable  regards  of  other  men. 

Chapter  II.  is  '  Of  the  love  of  Praise,  and  of  Praise- 
worthiness  ;  the  dread  of  Blame,  and  of  Blame-worthiness ;' 
a  long  and  important  chapter.  The  author  endeavours  to 
trace,  according  to  his  principle  of  sympathy,  the  desire  of 
Praise-worthiness,  as  well  as  of  Pi-aise.  We  approve  certain 
conduct  in  others,  and  are  thus  disposed  to  approve  the  same 
conduct  in  ourselves  :  what  we  praise  as  judges  of  our  fellow- 
men,  we  deem  praise-worthy,  and  aspire  to  realize  in  our  own 
conduct.  Some  men  may  differ  from  us,  and  may  withhold 
that  praise;  we  may  be  pained  at  the  circumstance,  but  we 
adhere  to  our  love  of  the  praise-worthy,  even  when  it  does 
not  bring  the  praise.  When  we  obtain  the  praise  we  are 
pleased,  and  strengthened  in  our  estimate ;  the  approbation 
that  we  receive  contirms  our  self-approbation,  but  does  not 
give  birth  to  it.  In  short,  there  are  two  principles  at  work 
within  us.     We  are  pleased  with  approbation,  and  pained  by 


INFLUENCE  AND  AUTHORITY  OF  CONSCIENCE.  213 

reproach :  we  are  farther  pleased  if  the  approbation  coin- 
cides with  what  we  approve  when  we  are  ourselves  acting  as 
judges  of  other  men.  The  two  dispositions  vary  in  their 
strength  in  individuals,  confirming  each  other  when  in 
concert,  thwarting  each  other  when  opposed.  The  author 
has  painted  a  number  of  striking  situations  arising  out  of 
theii'  conflict.  He  enquires  why  we  are  more  pained  by  un- 
merited reproach,  than  Hfted  up  by  unmerited  approbation ; 
and  assigns  as  the  reason  that  the  painful  state  is  more 
pungent  than  the  corresponding  pleasurable  state.  He  shows 
how  those  men  whose  productions  are  of  uncertain  merit,  as 
poets,  are  more  the  slaves  of  approbation,  than  the  authors  of 
uumistakeable  discoveries  in  science.  In  the  extreme  cases 
of  unmerited  reproach,  he  points  oat  the  appeal  to  the  all- 
seeing  Judge  of  the  world,  and  to  a  future  state  rightly  con- 
ceived ;  protesting,  however,  against  the  view  that  would 
reserve  the  celestial  regions  for  monks  and  friars,  and  condemn 
to  the  infernal,  all  the  heroes,  statesmen,  poets,  and  philo- 
sophers of  former  ages ;  all  the  inventors  of  the  useful  arts ; 
the  protectors,  instructors,  and  benefactors  of  mankind  ;  and 
all  those  to  whom  our  natural  sense  of  praise-worthmess 
forces  us  to  ascribe  the  highest  merit  and  most  exalted  virtue. 
Chapter  HI.  is  *  On  the  inflaence  and  authority  of  Con- 
science ;'  another  long  chapter,  occupied  more  with  moral 
reflections  of  a  practical  kind  than  with  the  following  out  of 
the  analysis  of  our  moral  sentiment.  Conceding  that  the  testi- 
mony of  the  supposed  impartial  spectator  does  not  of  itself 
always  support  a  man,  he  yet  asserts  its  inflaence  to  be  great, 
and  that  by  it  alone  we  can  see  what  relates  to  ourselves  in 
the  proper  shape  and  dimensions.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that 
we  can  prefer  the  interest  of  many  to  the  interest  of  one  ;  the 
interest  of  others  to  our  own.  To  fortify  us  in  this  hard 
lesson  two  diflerent  schemes  have  been  proposed ;  one  to 
increase  our  feelings  for  others,  the  other  to  diminish  our 
feelings  for  ourselves.  The  first  is  prescribed  by  the  whining 
and  melancholy  moralists,  who  will  never  allow  us  to  be 
happy,  because  at  every  moment  many  of  our  fellow-beings 
are  in  misery.  The  second  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Stoics,  who 
annihilate  self-interest  in  favour  of  the  vast  commonwealth 
of  nature  ;  on  that  the  author  bestows  a  lengthened  comment 
and  correction,  founded  on  his  theory  of  regulating  the  mani. 
festations  of  joy  or  grief  by  the  light  of  the  impartial  judge. 
He  gives  his  own  panacea  for  human  misery,  namely,  the 
power  of  nature  to  accommodate  men  to  their  permanent  situ- 


214  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— ADA.M   SMITH. 

ation,  and  to  restore  tranquillity,  which  is  the  one  secret  of 
happiness. 

Chapter  IV.  handles  Self-Deceit,  and  the  Origin  and  Use 
of  General  Rules.  The  interference  of  our  passions  is  the 
great  obstacle  to  our  holding  towards  ourselves  the  position 
of  an  impartial  spectator.  From  this  notorious  fact  the  author 
deduces  an  argument  against  a  special  moral  faculty,  or  moral 
sense ;  he  says  that  if  we  had  such  a  faculty,  it  would  surely 
judge  our  own  passions,  which  are  the  most  clearly  laid  open 
to  it,  more  correctly  than  the  passions  of  others. 

To  correct  our  self-partiality  and  self-deceit  is  the  u?e  of 
general  rules.  Our  repeated  observations  on  the  tendency  of 
particular  acts,  teach  us  what  is  fit  to  be  done  generally ;  and 
our  conviction  of  the  propriety  of  the  general  rules  is  a  power- 
ful motive  for  applying  them  to  our  own  case.  It  is  a  mistake 
to  suppose,  as  some  have  done,  that  rules  precede  experience ; 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  formed  by  finding  fiom  experience 
that  all  actions  of  a  certain  kind,  in  certain  circumstances,  arv 
appioved  of.  When  established,  we  appeal  to  them  as  stan- 
dards  of  judgment  in  right  and  wrong,  but  they  are  not  the 
original  judgments  of  mankind,  nor  the  ultimate  foundations 
of  moral  sentiment. 

Chapter  V.  continues  the  subject  of  the  authority  and  in- 
fluence of  General  Rules,  maintaining  that  they  are  justly 
regarded  as  laws  of  the  Deity.  The  grand  advantngo  of 
general  rules  is  to  give  steadiness  to  human  conduct,  and  to 
enable  us  to  resist  our  temporary  varieties  of  temper  and  dis- 
position. They  are  thus  a  grand  security  for  hunian  duties. 
That  the  important  rules  of  morality  should  be  accounted  laws 
of  the  Deity  is  a  natural  sentiment.  Men  have  always  ascribed 
to  their  deities  their  own  seniiments  and  passions;  the  deities 
held  by  them  in  special  reverence,  they  have  endowed  with 
their  highest  ideal  of  excellence,  the  love  of  virtue  and  bene- 
ficence, and  the  abhorieuce  of  vice  and  injustice.  The  re- 
searches of  philosophical  inquiry  confirmed  mankind  in  the 
suppobition  that  the  moral  faculties  carry  the  badge  of  autho- 
rity, that  they  were  intended  as  the  governing  principles  of 
our  nature,  acting  as  the  vicegerents  of  the  Deity.  This 
inference  is  confirmed  by  the  view  that  the  happiness  of  men, 
and  of  other  rational  creatures,  is  the  original  design  of  the 
Author  of  nature,  the  only  pui-po.-e  recoiicilable  wiih  the 
perfections  we  asciibe  to  him. 

Chapter  VI.  is  on  the  cases  where  the  Sense  of  Duty 
Bhoald  be  the  sole  motive  of  conduct :  and  on   those  where  it 


THE  EFFECT  OF  UTILITY  ON  MORAL  APPROBATION.      215 

oaght  to  join  with  other  motives.  Allowing  the  import- 
ance of  religiou  among  hnman  motives,  he  does  not  concur 
with  the  view  that  would  make  religious  considerations  the 
sole  laudable  motives  of  action.  The  sense  of  duty  is  not  the 
only  principle  of  our  conduct ;  it  is  the  ruling  or  governing 
one.  It  may  be  a  question,  however,  on  what  occasions  we 
aie  to  proceed  strictly  by  the  sense  of  duty,  and  on  what 
occasions  give  way  to  some  other  sentiment  or  affection.  The 
author  answers  that  in  the  actions  prompted  by  benevolent 
affections,  we  are  to  follow  out  our  sentiments  as  much  aa 
oar  sense  of  duty;  and  the  contrary  with  the  malevolent 
passions.  As  to  the  selfish  passions,  we  are  to  follow  duty  in 
small  matters,  and  self-interest  in  great.  But  the  rules  of 
duty  predominate  most  in  cases  where  they  are  determined 
\^dth  exactness,  that  is,  in  the  virtue  of  Justice. 

Part  IY.  Of  the  effect  of  Utility  upon  tre  Sentiment 
OF  Approbation. 

Chapter  I.  is  on  the  Beauty  arising  out  of  Utility.  It  is 
here  that  the  author  sets  forth  the  dismal  career  of  '  the  poor 
man's  son,  whom  heaven  in  the  hour  of  her  anger  has  curst 
with  ambition,'  and  enforces  his  favourite  moral  lesson  of 
contentment  and  tranquillity. 

Chapter  II.  is  the  connexion  of  Utility  with  Moral  Appro- 
bation. Tliere  are  many  actions  possessing  the  kind  of  beauty 
or  charm  arising  from  utility  ;  and  hence,  it  may  be  main- 
tained (as  was  done  by  Hume)  that  our  whole  approbation  of 
virtue  may  be  explained  on  this  principle.  And  it  may  be 
granted  that  there  is  a  coincidence  between  our  sentiments 
of  approbation  or  disapprobation,  and  the  useful  or  hurtful 
qualities  of  actions.  Still,  the  author  holds  that  this  utility 
or  hurtfulness  is  not  the  foremost  or  principal  source  of  our 
approbation.  In  the  first  place,  he  thinks  it  incongruous  that 
we  should  have  no  other  reason  for  praising  a  man  than  for 
praising  a  chest  of  drawers.  In  the  next  place,  he  contends  at 
length  that  the  uselulness  of  a  disposition  of  mind  is  seldom 
the  first  ground  of  our  approbation.  Take,  for  example,  the 
qualities  useful  to  ourselves — reason  and  self-command  ;  we 
approve  the  first  as  just  and  accurate,  before  we  are  aware  of 
its  being  useful ;  and  as  to  self-command,  we  approve  it  quite 
as  much  for  its  propriety  as  for  its  utility  ;  it  is  the  coincidence 
of  our  opinion  with  the  opinion  of  the  spectator,  and  not  au 
estimate  of  the  comparative  utility,  that  affects  us.  Regarding^ 
the  qualities  useful  to  others — huinanitv-,  generosity,  public 
spirit  and  justice — he  merely  repeats  bis  own  theory  that  they 


216  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— ADAM   SMITH. 

are  approved  by  our  entering  into  the  view  of  the  impartial 
spectator.  The  examples  cited  only  show  that  these  virtues 
are  not  approved  from  self-interest ;  as  when  the  soldier  throws 
away  his  life  to  gain  something  for  his  sovereign.  He  also 
puts  the  case  of  a  solitary  human  being,  who  might  see  fitness 
in  actions,  but  could  not  feel  moral  approbation. 

Part  V.  The  ofluence  of  Custom  on  the  Moral  Senti- 
ments. The  first  chapter  is  a  pleasing  essay  on  the  influence 
of  custom  and  fashion  on  manners,  dress,  and  in  Fine  Art 
generally.  The  second  chapter  makes  the  application  to  our 
moral  sentiments.  Although  custom  will  never  reconcile  us  to 
the  conduct  of  a  Nero  or  a  Claudius,  it  will  heighten  or  blunt 
the  delicacy  of  our  sentiments  on  right  and  wrong.  The  fashion 
of  the  times  of  Charles  II.  made  dissoluteness  reputable,  and 
discountenanced  regularity  of  conduct.  There  is  a  custom- 
ary behaviour  that  we  expect  in  the  old  and  in  the  young, 
in  the  clergyman  and  in  the  military  man.  The  situations  of 
different  ages  and  countries  develop  characteristic  qualities — 
endurance  in  the  savage,  humanity  and  softness  in  the  civilized 
community.  Bat  these  are  not  the  extreme  instances  of  the 
principle.  We  find  particular  usages,  where  custom  has  ren 
dered  lawful  and  blameless  actions,  that  shock  the  plainest 
principles  of  right  and  wrong;  the  most  notorious  and  universal 
is  infanticide. 

Part  VI.  The  character  of  Virtue. 

Section  I.  is  on  Frudence,  and  is  an  elegant  essay  on  the 
leau  ideal  of  the  prudential  character  Section  II.  considers 
character  as  affecting  other  people.  Chapter  L  is  a  disquisition 
on  the  comparative  priority  of  the  objects  of  our  regard. 
After  self,  which  must  ever  have  the  first  place,  the  members 
of  our  own  family  are  recommended  to  our  consideration. 
Remoter  connexions  of  blood  are  more  or  less  regarded 
according  to  the  customs  of  the  country  ;  in  pastoral  countries 
clanship  is  manifested  ;  in  commercial  countries  distant  rela- 
tionship becomes  indifferent.  Official  and  business  connexions, 
and  the  association  of  neighbourhood,  determine  friendships. 
Special  estimation  is  a  still  preferable  tie.  Favours  received 
determine  and  require  favours  in  return.  The  distinction  of 
ranks  is  so  far  founded  in  nature  as  to  deserve  our  respect. 
Lastly,  the  miserable  are  recommended  to  our  compassion. 
Next,  as  regards  societies  (Chap.  11. ),  since  our  own  country 
stands  first  in  our  regard,  the  author  dilates  on  the  virtues  of 
a  good  citizen.  Finally,  although  our  effectual  good  ofiices 
may    not   extend    beyond    our    country,    our   good-will   may 


THE   VIRTUES.  217 

embrace  tlie  whole  universe.  This  universal  benevolence, 
however,  the  author  thinks  must  repose  on  the  belief  in  a 
benevolent  and  all-wise  governor  of  the  world,  as  realized,  for 
example,  in  the  meditations  of  Marcus  Antoninus. 

Section  III.  Of  Self-command.  On  this  topic  the  author 
produces  a  splendid  moral  essay,  in  which  he  describes  the 
various  modes  of  our  self- estimation,  and  draws  a  contrast 
between  pride  and  vanity.  In  so  far  as  concerns  his  Ethical 
tbeory,  he  has  still  tbe  same  criterion  of  the  virtue,  the  degree 
and  mode  commended  by  the  impartial  spectator. 

Part  YII.  Of  Systems  of  Moral  Philosophy.  On  this 
we  need  only  to  remark  that  it  is  aa  interesting  and  valuable 
contribution  to  the  history  and  the  criticism  of  the  Ethical 
systems.* 

The  Ethical  theory  of  Adam  Smith  may  be  thus  summed 

I. — The  Ethical  Standard  is  the  judgment  of  an  impartial 
spectator  or  critic ;  and  our  own  judgments  are  derived  by 
reference  to  what  this  spectator  would  approve  or  disapprove. 

Probably  to  no  one  has  this  ever  appeared  a  sufficient 
account  of  Right  and  Wroug.  It  provides  against  one  defect, 
the  self-partiality  of  the  agent ;  but  gives  no  account  whatever 
of  the  grounds  of  the  critic's  own  judgment,  and  makes  no 
provision  against  his  fallibility.  It  may  be  very  well  on  points 
where  men's  moral  sentiments  are  tolerably  unanimous,  but  it 

•  It  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  quote  a  sentence  or  two,  giving  the 
author's  opinion  on  the  theory  of  the  Moral  Sense.  '  Aj^ainst  every 
account  of  the  principle  of  apprt  b  ition,  which  makes  it  depend  upon  a 
peculiar  sentiment,  distinct  from  every  other,  I  would  object,  that  it  is 
strange  that  this  sentiment,  which  Providence  undoubtedly  intended  to 
be  the  governing  principle  of  human  nature,  should  hitherto  have  been 
so  little  taken  notice  of,  as  not  to  have  ijot  a  name  in  any  language.  The 
■word  Moral  Sense  is  of  very  late  formation,  and  cannot  yet  be  considered 
as  making  part  of  the  English  tongue.  The  word  approbation  has  but 
within  these  few  years  been  iippropr.ated  to  denote  peculiarly  anything 
of  this  kind.  In  proprit  ty  of  Ian  uage  we  approve  of  whatever  is  entirely 
to  our  Satisfaction — of  the  form  of  a  building,  of  the  contrivance  of  a 
machine,  of  the  flavour  of  a  dish  of  meat.  The  word  conscience  does  not 
immediately  denote  any  moral  faculty  by  which  we  approve  or  disapprove. 
C<mscience  supposes,  indeed,  the  existence  of  some  such  faculty,  and 
properly  signifies  our  consciousness  of  having  acted  agreeably  or  contrary 
to  its  directions.  When  love,  hatred,  joy,  sorrow,  gratitude,  res-ntment, 
with  so  many  other  passions  whi'-h  are  all  supposed  to  be  the  subjects  of 
this  principle,  have  made  themselves  considerable  enough  to  get  titles  to 
know  them  by,  is  it  not  surprising  that  the  sovereign  of  them  all  should 
hitherto  have  been  so  little  heeded  ;  that,  a  few  philosophers  excepted, 
nobody  Las  yet  thought  it  worth  while  to  bestow  a  name  upon  itf ' 
10 


218  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— ADAM   SMITH. 

is  valueless  in  all  questions  where  there  are  fundamental 
differences  of  view. 

II. — In  the  Psychology  of  Ethics,  Smith  would  consider  th« 
moral  Faculty  as  identical  with  the  power  of  Sympathy,  which 
he  treats  as  the  foundation  of  Benevolence.  A  man  is  a  moral 
being  in  proportion  as  he  can  enter  into,  and  realize,  the 
feelings,  sentiments,  and  opinions  of  others. 

Now,  as  morality  would  never  have  existed  but  for  the 
necessity  of  protecting  one  human  being  against  another,  the 
power  of  the  mind  that  adopts  other  people's  interests  and 
views  must  always  be  of  vital  moment  as  a  spring  of  moral 
conduct ;  and  Adam  Smith  has  done  great  service  in  develop- 
ing the  workings  of  the  sympathetic  impulse. 

He  does  not  discuss  Free-will.  On  the  question  of  Disin- 
terested Conduct,  he  gives  no  clear  opinion.  While  denying 
that  our  sympathetic  impulses  area  refinement  of  self-love,  he 
would  seem  to  admit  that  they  bring  their  own  pleasure  with 
them;  so  that,  after  all,  they  do  not  detract  from  our  happi- 
ness. In  other  places,  he  recognizes  self-sacrifice,  but  gives 
no  analysis  of  the  motives  that  lead  to  it ;  and  seems  to  think, 
with  many  other  moralists,  that  it  requires  a  compensation  in 
the  next  world. 

III. —  His  theory  of  the  constituents  of  Happiness  is 
simple,  primitive,  and  crude,  but  is  given  with  earnest  convic- 
tion. Ambition  he  laughs  to  scorn.  '  What,  he  asks,  can  be 
added  to  the  happiness  of  the  man  who  is  in  health,  out  of 
debt,  and  has  a  clear  conscience  ?  '  Again,  '  the  chief  part  of 
happiness  consists  in  the  consciousness  of  being  beloved, 
hence,  sudden  changes  of  fortune  seldom  contribnte  to  happi- 
ness.' But  what  he  dwells  upon  most  persistently,  as  the 
prime  condition  of  happiness,  is  Contentment,  and  Tranquillity. 

IV. — On  the  Moral  Code,  he  has  nothing  peculiar.  As  to 
the  means  and  inducements  to  morality,  he  does  not  avail 
himself  of  the  fertility  of  his  own  principle  of  Sympathy. 
Appeals  to  S3^mpathy,  and  the  cultivation  of  the  power  of 
entering  into  the  feelings  of  others,  could  easily  be  shown  to 
play  a  high  part  in  efiicacious  moral  suasion. 

V. — He  affords  little  or  no  grounds  for  remarking  on  the 
connexion  of  Morality  with  Politics.  Our  duties  as  citizens 
are  a  part  of  Morality,  and  that  is  all. 

VI. — He  gives  his  views  on  the  alliance  of  Ethics  with 
Religion.  He  does  not  admit  that  we  should  refer  to  the 
Religious  sanction  on  all  occasions.  He  assumes  a  bene- 
volent and  all- wise  Governor  of  the  world,  who  will  ultimately 


GKOWTH  OF  DISINTERESTED  FEELING.  219 

redress  all  inequalities,  and  remedy  all  ontstanding  injustice. 
What  this  Being  approves,  however,  is  to  be  inferred  solely 
from  the  principles  of  benevolence.  Our  regard  for  him  is  to 
be  shown,  not  by  ftivolous  observances,  sacrifices,  ceremonies, 
and  vain  supplications,  but  by  just  and  beneficent  actions. 
The  author  studiously  ignores  a  revelation,  and  constructs  for 
himself  a  Natural  Religion,  grounded  on  a  benevolent  and 
just  administration  of  the  universe. 

In  Smith's  Essay,  the  purely  scientific  enquiry  is  overlaid 
by  practical  and  hortatory  dissertations,  and  by  eloquent  de- 
lineations of  character  and  of  beau-ideals  of  virtuous  conduct. 
His  style  being  thus  pitched  to  the  popular  key,  he  never 
pushes  home  a  metaphysical  analysis ;  so  that  even  his 
favourite  theme,  Sympathy,  is  not  philosophically  sifted  to 
the  bottom. 

DAVID  HARTLEY.         [1705-1757.] 

The  'Observations  on  Man'  (1749)  is  the  first  systematic 
effort  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  mind  by  the  Law  of 
Association.  It  contains  also  a  philosophical  hypothesis,  that 
mental  states  are  produced  by  the  vibration  of  infinitesimal  par- 
ticles of  the  nerves.  This  analogy,  borrowed  from  the  undu- 
lations of  the  hypothetical  substance  eether,  has  been  censured 
as  crude,  and  has  been  entirely  superseded.  But,  although 
an  imperfect  analogy,  it  nevertheless  kept  constantly  before 
the  mind  of  Hartley  the  double  aspect  of  all  mental  pheno- 
mena, thus  preventing  erroneous  explanations,  and  often 
suggesting  correct  ones.  In  this  respect,  Aristotle  and  Hobbes 
are  the  only  persons  that  can  be  named  as  equally  fortunate. 

The  ethical  remarks  contained  in  the  '  Observations,' 
relate  only  to  the  second  head  of  summary,  the  Psychology  of 
Ethics.  We  shall  take,  first,  the  account  of  disinterestedness, 
and,  next,  of  the  moral  sense. 

1.  Disinterestedness.  Under  the  name  Sympatluj,  Hartley 
includes  four  kinds  of  feelings: — (1)  Rejoicing  at  the  happi- 
ness of  others — Sociality,   Good- will.   Generosity,   Gratitude; 

(2)  Grieving  for  the  misery  of  others — Compassion,  Mercy; 

(3)  Rejoicing  at  the  misery  of  others — Anger,  Jealousy, 
Cruelty,  Malice;  and  (4)  Grieving  for  the  happiness  of  others 
—Emulation,  Envy.  All  these  feelings  may  be  shown  to 
originate  in  association.  We  select  as  examples  of  Hartley's 
method,  Benevolence  and  Compassion.  Benevolence  is  the 
pleasing  afiection  that  prompts  us  to  act  for  the  benefit  of 
others.      It  is  not  a  primitive  feeling  ;  but  grows  out  of  such 


220  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — HARTLEY. 

oircTira stances  as  the  following'.  Almost  all  the  pleasures, 
and  few,  in  comparison,  of  the  pains,  of  children,  are  caused 
by  others;  who  are  thus,  in  the  course  of  time,  regarded 
with  pleasure,  independently  of  their  usefulness  to  us. 
Many  of  our  pleasures  are  enjoyed  along  with,  and  are 
enhanced  by,  the  presence  of  others.  This  tends  to  make  us 
more  sociable.  Moreover,  we  are  taught  and  required  to  put 
on  the  appearance  of  good-will,  and  to  do  kindly  actions,  and 
this  may  beget  in  us  the  proper  feelin-:^'^.  Finally,  we  must 
take  into  account  the  praise  and  rewards  of  benevolence, 
together  with  the  reciprocity  of  benefits  that  we  may  justly 
expect.  All  those  elements  may  be  so  mixed  and  blended  as 
to  produce  a  feeling  that  shall  teach  us  to  do  good  to  others 
without  any  expectation  of  reward,  even  that  most  refined 
recompense — the  pleasure  arising  from  a  beneficent  act. 
Thus  Hartley  conceives  that  he  both  proves  the  existence  of 
disinterested  feeling,  and  explains  the  manner  of  its  develope- 
ment. 

His  account  of  Compassion  is  similar.  In  the  young,  the 
signs  and  appearances  of  distress  excite  a  painful  feeling,  by 
recalling  their  own  experience  of  misery.  In  the  old,  the 
connexion  between  a  feeling  and  its  adjuncts  has  been 
weakened  by  experience.  Also,  when  children  are  brought 
up  together,  they  are  often  annoyed  by  the  same  things,  and 
this  tends  powerfully  to  create  a  fellow-feeling.  Again,  when 
their  parents  are  ill,  they  are  taught  to  cultivate  pity,  and 
are  also  subjected  to  unusual  restraints.  All  those  things 
conspire  to  make  children  desire  to  remove  the  sufferings  of 
others.  Various  circumstances  increase  the  feeling  of  pity,  as 
when  the  sufferers  are  beloved  by  us,  or  are  morally  good. 
It  is  confirmatory  of  this  view,  that  the  most  compassionate 
are  those  whose  nerves  are  easily  irritable,  or  whose  ex- 
perience of  affliction  has  been  considerable. 

2. — The  Moral  Sense.  Hartley  denies  the  existence  of  any 
moral  instinct,  or  any  moral  judgments,  proceeding  upon  the 
eternal  relations  of  things.  If  there  be  such,  let  instances  of 
them  be  produced  prior  to  the  influence  of  associations.  Still, 
our  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation  is  disinterested,  and 
has  a  factitious  independence.  (1)  Children  are  taught  what 
is  right  and  wrong,  and  thus  the  associations  connected  with 
the  idea  of  piaise  and  blame  are  transferred  to  the  virtues 
inculcated  and  the  vices  condemned.  (2)  Many  vices  and 
virtues,  such  as  sensuality,  intemperance,  malice,  and  the 
opposites,  produce  immediate  conse<][ueuces  of  evil  and  good 


THE   MORAL  SENSE.  221 

respectively.  (3)  The  benefits,  immediate  or  (at  least) 
obvious,  flowing  from  the  virtues  of  others,  kindle  love 
towards  them,  and  thereafter  to  the  virtues  they  exliibit. 
(4)  Another  consideration  is  the  loveliness  of  virtue,  arising 
from  the  suitableness  of  the  virtues  to  each  other,  and  to  the 
beauty,  order,  and  perfection  of  the  world.  (5)  The  hopes 
and  fears  connected  with  a  future  life,  strengthen  the  feelings 
connected  with  virtue.  (6)  Meditation  upon  God  and  prayer 
have  a  like  effect.  *  All  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  sensation, 
imagination,  ambition  (pride  and  vanity),  self-interest,  sym- 
pathy, and  theopathy  (affection  towards  God),  as  far  as  they 
are  consistent  with  one  another,  with  the  frame  of  our  natures, 
and  with  the  course  of  the  world,  beget  in  us  a  moral  sense, 
and  lead  us  to  the  love  and  approbation  of  virtue,  and  to  the 
fear,  hatred,  and  abhorrence  of  vice.  This  moral  sense, 
therefore,  carries  its  own  authority  with  it,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
the  sum  total  of  all  the  rest,  and  the  ultimate  result  from 
them ;  and  employs  the  whole  force  and  authority  of  the 
wliole  nature  of  man  against  any  particular  pa,rt  of  it  that 
rebels  against  the  determinations  and  commands  of  the  con- 
science or  moral  judgment.' 

Hartley's  analysis  of  the  moral  sense  is  a  great  advance 
upon  Hobbes  and  Mandeville,  who  make  self-love  the  imme- 
diate constituent,  iustead  of  a  remoce  cause,  of  conscience. 
Our  moral  consciousness  may  thus  be  treated  as  peculiar  and 
distinguishable  from  other  mental  states,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  is  denied  to  be  unique  and  irresolvable. 

THOMAS  REID.*        [1710-96.] 

Reid's  Ethical  views  are  given  in  his  Essays  on  the  Active 
Powei-s  of  the  Mind. 

*  Adam  Ferguson  (1724-1816),  is  not  of  sufficient  importance  in  purely 
Etliical  theory  to  demand  a  fail  abstrHct.  The  following  remark  on  his 
views  is  made  hy  Professor  Veitch  : —  '  Ferguson,  while  holding  with 
Reid  that  the  notion  of  llightncss  is  not  resolvable  into  utility,  or  to  be 
derived  from  sympathy  or  a  mora'  sense,  goes  a  8tep  beyord  both  Held 
and  Stewart  in  the  inquiry  which  he  raises  regarding  the  definite  nature 
and  ground  of  Kightness  itself.'  The  following  is  his  definition  of  Moral 
Good: — 'Moral  good  is  the  specific  exctlleiice  and  felicity  of  human 
nature,  and  moral  depravity  its  specific  defect  and  wretchedness.'  The 
'excellence'  of  human  nature  consists  in  four  things,  drawn  out  after 
the  analf.gy  of  the  cardinal  virtues:  (1)  .S/.;/// (Wisdom) ;  {1)  Benevolence^ 
the  principal  excellence  of  a  creature  destined  to  perform  a  part  in 
social  life  (Justice);  {Z)  Application  of  invid  {Vem^evAnca)',  (^4)  Force,  or 
energy  to  overcome   obstacles   (Fortitude).      Regarding   the    motive$  to 


222  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — REID. 

Essay  IIL,  entitled  The  Principles  of  Action,  contains 
(Part  Iir.)  a  disquisition  on  the  Rational  Principles  of  Action^ 
as  opposed  to  what  Reid  calls  respectively  Mechanical  Prin- 
ciples (Instinct,  Habit),  and  Animal  Principles  (Appetites, 
Desires,  Affections). 

The  Rational  Principles  of  Action  are  Prndence,  or  regard 
to  onr  own  good  on  the  whole,  and  Dut}^,  which,  however,  he 
does  not  define  by  the  antithetical  circumstance — the  'good 
of  others.'  The  notion  of  Duty,  he  says,  is  too  simple  for 
logical  definition,  and  can  only  be  explained  by  synonymes — 
trliat  we  ought  to  do ;  what  is  fair  and  honest;  what  is  approv- 
able  ;  the  professed  rule  of  men's  conduct ;  what  all  men  praise; 
the  laudable  in  itself,  though  no  man  praise  it. 

Duty,  he  says,  cannot  be  resolved  into  Interest.  The 
language  of  mankind  makes  the  two  distinct.  Disregard  of 
onr  interest  is  folly ;  of  honour,  baseness.  Honour  is  more 
than  mere  reputation,  for  it  keeps  us  right  when  we  are 
not  seen.  This  principle  of  Honour  (so-called  by  men  of  rank) 
is,  in  vnlgar  phrase,  honesty,  probity,  virtue,  conscience ;  in 
philosophical  language,  the  moral  sense,  the  moral  faculty, 
rectitude. 

The  principle  is  universal  in  men  grown  up  to  years 
of  understanding.  Such  a  testimony  as  Hume's  may  be 
held  decisive  on  the  reality  of  moral  distinctions.  The 
ancient  world  recognized  it  in  the  leading  terms,  honestum  and 
utile,  &c. 

The  abstract  notion  of  Duty  is  a  relation  between  the  action 
and  the  agent.  It  must  be  voluntary,  and  within  the  power 
ot  the  agent.  The  opinion  (or  intention)  of  the  agent  gives 
the  act  its  moral  quality. 

As  to  the  Sense  of  Duty,  Reid  pronounces  at  once,  without 
hesitation,  and  with  very  little  examination,  in  favour  of  an 
original  power  or  faculty,  in  other  words,  a  Moral  Sense. 
Intellectual  judgments  are  judgments  of  the  external  senses; 
moral  judgments  result  from  an  internal  moral  sense.  The 
external  senses  give  us  our  intellectual  first  principles;  the 
moral  sense  our  moral  first  principles.  He  is  at  pains 
to  exemplify  the  deductive  process  in  morals.  It  is  a  question 
of  moral  reasoning.  Ought  a  man  to  have  only  one  wife  ? 

virtue,  either  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  or  divine  rewards  and  punish- 
ments constitute  a  sanction;  but,  in  any  case,  the  motive  is  our  own 
happiness  All  the  virtues  enumeiated  are  themselves  useful  or  pleasant, 
but,  over  and  above,  they  tiive  rise  to  an  additional  pleasure,  when  they 
are  made  the  subject  of  reflection. 


CONSCIENCE  AN  ORIGINAX  POWER  OF  THE  MIND.        223 

The  reasons  are,  the  greater  good  of  the  family,  and  of  society 
in  general ;  but  no  reason  can  be  given  why  we  should  prefer 
greater  good ;  it  is  an  intuition  of  the  moral  sense. 

He  sums  up  the  chapter  thus  : — '  That,  by  an  original 
power  of  the  mind,  which  we  call  conscience^  or  the  moral 
faculty,  we  have  the  conceptions  of  right  and  wrong  in  human 
conduct,  of  merit  and  demerit,  of  duty  and  moral  obligation, 
and  our  other  moral  conceptions  ;  and  that,  by  the  same 
faculty,  we  perceive  some  things  in  human  conduct  to  be 
right,  and  others  to  be  wrong;  that  the  first  principles  of 
morals  are  the  dictates  of  this  faculty ;  and  that  we  have  the 
same  reason  to  rely  upon  those  dictates,  as  upon  the  determi- 
nations of  our  senses,  or  of  our  other  natural  faculties.* 
Hamilton  remarks  that  this  theory  virtually  founds  morality 
on  intelligence. 

Moral  Approbation  is  the  affection  and  esteem  accompany- 
ing our  judgment  of  a  right  moral  act.  This  is  in  all  cases 
pleasurable,  but  most  so,  when  the  act  is  our  own.  So,  ob- 
versely,  for  Moral  Disapprobation. 

Regarding  Conscience,  Reid  remarks,  first,  that  like  all 
other  powers  it  comes  to  maturity  by  insensible  degrees,  and 
may  be  a  subject  of  culture  or  education.  He  takes  no  note  of 
the  difficulty  of  determining  what  is  primitive  and  what 
is  acquired.  Secondly,  Conscience  is  peculiar  to  man ;  it 
is  wanting  in  the  brutes.  Thirdly,  it  is  evidently  intended 
to  be  the  director  of  our  conduct ;  and  fourthly,  it  is  an  Active 
power  and  an  Intellectual  power  combined. 

Essay  IV.  is  Of  the  Liberty  of  Moral  Agents,  which  we 
pass  by,  having  noticed  it  elsewhere.  Essay  V.  is  Op 
Morals. 

Chapter  I.  professes  to  enumerate  the  axiomatic  first  prin- 
ciples of  Morals.  Som«.  of  these  relate  (A)  to  virtue  in  general : 
as  (1)  There  are  actions  deserving  of  praise,  and  others  de- 
serving blame;  (2)  the  involuntary  is  not  an  object  of  praise 
or  blame  ;  (3)  the  unavoidable  is  not  an  object  of  praise  or 
blame;  (4)  omission  may  be  culpable;  (5)  we  ought  to  in- 
form ourselves  as  to  duty;  (6)  we  should  fortify  ourselves 
against  temptation.  Other  principles  relate  (B)  to  particular 
virtues:  (1)  We  should  prefer  a  greater  good  to  a  less;  (2) 
we  should  comply  with  the  intention  of  nature,  apparent  in 
our  conscitution  ;  (8)  no  man  is  born  for  himself  alone ;  (4) 
we  should  judge  accoraing  to  the  rule,  '  Do  to  others,'  &c.  ; 
(5)  if  we  believe  in  God,  we  should  venerate  and  submit  to 
him.     A  third  class  of  principles    (C)  settle  the  preference 


224  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — REID. 

among  opposing  virtues.  Thus,  unmerited  generosity  should 
yield  to  gratitude,  and  both  to  justice. 

Chapter  II.  remarks  upon  the  growth  and  peculiar  advan- 
tages of  Systems  of  Morals.  Chapter  III.  is  on  Systems  of 
Natural  Jurisprudence.  The  four  subsequent  chapters  of  the 
Essay  he  states  to  have  been  composed  in  answer  to  the  Ethi- 
cal doctrines  of  Hume. 

Chapter  IV.  enquires  whether  a  moral  action  must  proceed 
from  a  moral  purpose  in  the  agent.  He  decides  in  the  affir- 
mative, replying  to  certain  objections,  and  more  especially  to 
the  allegation  of  Hume,  that  justice  is  not  a  natural,  but  an 
artificial  virtue.  This  last  question  is  pursued  at  great  length 
in  Chapter  V.,  and  the  author  takes  occasion  to  review  the 
theory  of  Utility  or  Benevolence,  set  up  by  Hume  as  the  basis 
of  morals.  He  gives  Hume  the  credit  of  having  made  an  im- 
portant step  in  advance  of  the  Epicurean,  or  Selfish,  system, 
by  including  the  good  of  others,  as  well  as  our  own  good,  in 
moral  acts.  Still,  he  demands  why,  if  Utility  and  Virtue  are 
identical,  the  same  name  should  not  express  both.  It  is  true, 
that  virtue  is  both  agreeable  and  useful  in  the  highest  degree ; 
but  that  circumstance  does  not  prevent  it  from  having  a  quality 
of  its  own,  not  arising  from  its  being  useful  and  agreeable,  but 
arising  from  its  being  virtue.  The  common  good  of  society, 
though  a  pleasing  object  to  all  men,  hardly  ever  enters  into 
the  thoughts  of  the  great  majority  ;  and,  if  a  regard  to  it  were 
the  sole  motive  of  justice,  only  a  select  number  would  ever  be 
possessed  of  the  virtue.  The  notion  of  justice  carries  inse- 
parably along  with  it  a  notion  of  moral  obligation ;  and  no 
act  can  be  called  an  act  of  justice  unless  prompted  by  the 
motive  of  justice. 

Then,  again,  good  music  and  good  cookery  have  the  merit 
of  utility,  in  procuring  what  is  agreeable  both  to  ourselves  and 
to  society,  but  they  have  never  been  denominated  moral  virtues  ; 
so  that,  if  Hume's  system  be  true,  they  have  been  very  unfairly 
treated. 

Reid  illustrates  his  positions  against  Hume  to  a  length 
unnecessary  to  follow.  The  objections  are  exclusively  and 
effectively  aimed  at  the  two  unguarded  points  of  the  Utility 
system  as  propounded  by  Hume ;  namely,  first,  the  not  recog- 
nizing moral  rules  as  established  and  enforced  among  men  by 
the  dictation  of  authority,  which  does  not  leave  to  individuals 
the  power  of  reference  to  ultimate  ends ;  and,  secondly,  the 
not  distinguishing  between  obligatory,  and  non-obligatory, 
useful  acts. 


ARGUMENTS   FOR  INTUITIVE  MORALITY.  225 

Reid  continues  the  controversy,  with  reference  to  Justice, 
in  Chapter  VI.,  on  the  Nature  and  Obligation  of  a  Contract; 
and  in  Chapter  YII.  maintains,  in  opposition  to  Hume,  that 
Moral  approbation  implies  a  Judgment  of  the  intellect,  and  is 
not  a  mere  feeling,  as  Hume  seems  to  think.  He  allows  the 
propriety  of  the  phrase  '  Moral  Sentiment,'  because  '  Senti- 
ment' in  English  means  judgment  accompanied  with  feeling. 
[Hamilton  dissents,  and  thinks  that  sentiment  means  the 
higher  feelings.]  He  says,  if  a  moral  judgment  be  no  real 
judgment,  but  only  a  feeling,  morals  have  no  foundation  but 
the  arbitrary  structure  of  the  mind ;  there  are  no  immutable 
moral  distinctions  ;  and  no  evidence  for  the  moral  character 
of  the  Deity. 

We  shall  find  the  views  of  Reid  substantially  adopted,  and 
a  little  more  closely  and  concisely  argued,  by  Stewart. 

DUGALD   STEWART.         [1753-1828.] 

In  his  '  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  the  Mind,'  Stewart 
introduces  the  Moral  Faculty  in  the  same  way  as  Reid. 
Book  Second  is  entitled  Oqb  Kational  and  Goverxixg  Prin- 
ciples OF  Action.  Chapter  L,  on  Prudence  or  Self-love, 
is  unimportant  for  our  present  purpose,  consisting  of  some 
desultory  remarks  on  the  connexion  of  happiness  with  steadi- 
ness of  purpose,  and  on  the  meanings  of  the  words  'self-love' 
and  '  selfishness.' 

Chapter  II.  is  on  T^e  Mo  -al  Faculty,  and  is  intended  to 
show  that  it  is  an  original  principle  of  the  mind.  He  first 
replies  to  the  theory  that  identifies  Morality  with  Prudence, 
or  Self-love.  His  first  argument  is  the  existence  in  all  lan- 
guages of  different  words  for  duty  and  for  interest.  Secondly, 
The  emotions  arising  from  the  contemplation  of  right  and 
wrong  are  different  from  those  produced  by  a  regard  to  our 
own  happiness.  Thirdly,  althoagh  in  most  instances  a  sense 
of  duty,  and  an  enlightened  regard  to  our  own  happiness, 
would  suggest  to  us  the  same  line  of  conduct,  yet  this  truth 
is  not  obvious  to  mankind  generally,  who  are  incapable  of 
appreciating  enlarged  views  and  remote  consequences.  He 
repeats  the  common  remark,  that  we  secure  our  happiness 
best  by  not  looking  to  it  as  thi}  one  primary  end.  Fourthly, 
moral  judgments  appear  in  children,  long  before  they  can 
form  the  general  notion  of  happiness.  His  examples  of  this 
position,  however,  have  exclusive  reference  to  the  sentiment 
of  pity,  which  all  moralists  regard  as  a  primitive  feeling, 
while  few  admit  it  to  be  the  same  as  the  moral  sense. 


226  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — STEWART. 

He  then  takes  notice  of  the  Association  Theory  of  Hartley, 
Paley,  and  others,  which  he  admits  to  be  a  great  refinement 
of  the  old  selfish  system,  and  an  answer  to  one  of  his  argu- 
ments. He  maintains,  nevertheless,  that  the  others  are 
untouched  by  it,  and  more  esiDecially  the  third,  referring 
to  the  amount  of  experience  and  reflection  necessary  to  dis- 
cover the  tendency  of  virtue  to  promote  our  happiness,  which 
is  inconsistent  with  the  early  period  when  our  moral  judgments 
appear.  [It  is  singular  that  he  should  not  have  remarked 
that  the  moral  judgments  of  that  early  age,  if  we  except  what 
springs  from  the  impulses  of  pity,  are  wholly  communicated 
by  others.]  He  quotes  Paley 's  reasoning  against  the  Moral 
Sense,  and  declares  that  he  has  as  completely  mis-stated  the 
issue,  as  if  one  were  to  contend  that  because  we  are  not  born 
with  the  knowledge  of  light  and  colours,  therefore  the  sense 
of  seeing  is  not  an  original  part  of  the  frame.  [It  would  be 
easy  to  retort  that  all  that  Paley 's  case  demanded  was  the 
same  power  of  discrimination  in  moral  judgments,  as  the  power 
of  discriminating  light  and  dark  belonging  to  our  sense  of 
sight.] 

Chapter  III.  continues  the  subject,  and  examines  objections. 
The  first  objection  taken  up  is  that  derived  from  the  influence 
of  education,  with  which  he  combines  the  farther  objection  (of 
Locke  and  his  followers)  arising  from  the  diversity  of  men's 
moral  judgments  in  various  nations.  With  regard  to  education, 
he  contends  that  there  are  limits  to  its  influence,  and  that 
however  it  may  modify,  it  cannot  create  our  judgments  of 
right  and  wrong,  any  more  than  our  notions  of  beauty  and 
deformity.  As  to  the  historical  facts  relating  to  the  diversity 
of  moral  judgments,  he  considers  it  necessary  to  make  full 
allowance  for  three  circumstances — I. — Diflerence  of  situation 
with  regard  to  climate  and  civilization.  II. — Diversity  of 
speculative  opinions,  arising  from  difference  of  intellectual 
capacity ;  and,  III. — The  different  moral  import  of  the  same 
action  under  diff'erent  systems  of  behaviour.  On  the  first 
head  he  explains  the  indifference  to  theft  from  there  being 
little  or  no  fixed  property  ;  he  adduces  the  variety  of  sentiments 
respecting  Usury,  as  having  reference  to  circumstances ;  and 
alludes  to  the  differences  of  men's  views  as  to  political  assassin- 
ation. On  the  second  head  he  remarks,  that  men  may  agree 
on  ends^  but  may  take  different  views  as  to  means ;  they  may 
agree  in  recognizing  obedience  to  the  Deity,  but  differ  in  their 
interpretations  of  his  will.  On  the  third  point,  as  regards  the 
diff'erent  moral  import  of  the  same  action,  he  suggests  that 


MORAL   OBLIGATION.  227 

Locke's  instance  of  the  killing  of  aged  parents  is  merely  the 
recognized  mode  of  filial  affection ;  he  also  quotes  the  exceed- 
ing variety  of  ceremonial  observances. 

Chapter  lY.  comments  farther  on  the  objections  to  the 
reality  and  immutability  of  moral  distinctions  and  to  the 
universal  diffusion  of  the  moral  faculty.  The  reference  is,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  Locke,  and  then  to  what  he  terms,  after 
Adam  Smith,  the  licentious  moralists — La  Rochefoucauld  and 
Mandeville.  The  replies  to  these  writers  contain  nothing 
special  to  Stewart. 

Chapter  V.  is  the  Analysis  of  our  Moral  Perceptions  and 
Emotions.  This  is  a  somewhat  singular  phrase  in  an  author 
recognizing  a  separate  inborn  faculty  of  Right.  His  analysis 
consists  in  a  separation  of  the  entire  fact  into  three  parts  : — 
(1)  the  perception  of  an  action  as  right  or  wrong;  (2)  an 
emotion  of  pleasure  or  pain,  varying  according  to  the  moral 
sensibility:  (3)  a  perception  of  the  merit  or  demerit  of  the 
agent.  The  first  is  of  course  the  main  question ;  and  the 
author  gives  a  long  review  of  the  history  of  Ethical  doctrines 
from  Hobbes  downwards,  interspersing  reflections  and  criti- 
cisms, all  in  favour  of  the  intuitive  origin  of  the  sense.  As 
illustrative  parallels,  he  adduces  Personal  Identity,  Causation, 
and  Equality ;  all  which  he  considers  to  be  judgments  in- 
volving simple  ideas,  and  traceable  only  to  some  primitive 
power  of  the  mind.  He  could  as  ca  i'y  conceive  a  rational 
being  formed  to  believe  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  to  be 
equal  to  one  right  angle,  as  to  believe  that  there  would  be  no 
injustice  in  depriving  a  man  of  the  fruits  of  his  labours. 

On  the  second  poiat— the  pleasure  and  pain  accompanying 
right  and  wrong,  he  remarks  on  the  one-sidedness  of  systems 
that  treat  the  sense  of  riofht  and  wrou^  as  an  intellectual 
judgment  purely  (Clarke,  &c.),  or  those  that  treat  it  as  a 
feeling  purely  (Shattesbury,  Hutcheson,  and  Hume).  His 
remarks  on  the  sense  of  Merit  and  Demerit  in  the  agent  are 
trivial  or  commonplace. 

Chapter  VL  is  '  Of  Moral  Obligation.'  It  is  needless  to 
follow  him  on  this  subject,  as  his  views  are  substantially  a 
repetition  of  Butler's  Supremacj'-  of  Conscience.  At  the  same 
lime,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  Burler  entirely  and  unequi- 
vocally detached  this  supremacy  from  the  command  of  the 
Deity,  a  point  peculiarly  insisted  on  by  Stewart.  His  words 
are  these  : — 

*  According  to  some  systems,  moral  obligation  is  founded 
entirely  on  our  belief  that  virtue  is  enjoined  by  the  command  of 


228  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — STEWART. 

God.  But  howj  it  may  be  asked,  does  this  belief  impose  an  obli- 
gation ?  Only  one  of  two  answers  can  be  given.  Either  that 
there  is  a  moral  fitness  that  we  should  conform  our  will  to  that  of 
the  Author  and  the  Governor  of  the  universe  ;  or  that  a  rational 
self-love  should  induce  ns,  from  motives  of  prudence,  to  study 
every  means  of  rendering  ourselves  acceptable  to  the  Almighty 
Arbiter  of  happiness  and  misery.  On  the  first  supposition  we 
reason  in  a  circle.  We  resolve  our  sense  of  moral  obligation  into 
our  sense  of  religion,  and  the  sense  of  religion  into  that  of  moral 
obligation. 

*  The  other  system,  which  makes  virtue  a  mere  matter  of  pru- 
dence, although  not  so  obviously  unsatisfactory,  leads  to  conse- 
quences which  suificiently  invalidate  every  argument  in  its  favour. 
Among  others  it  leads  us  to  conclude,  1.  That  the  disbelief  of  a 
future  state  absolves  from  all  moral  obligation,  excepting  in  so 
far  as  we  find  virtue  to  be  conducive  to  our  present  interest : 
2.  That  a  being  independently  and  completely  happy  cannot  have 
any  moral  perceptions  or  any  moral  attributes. 

*  But  farther,  the  notions  of  reward  and  punishment  presuppose 
the  notions  of  right  and  wrong.  They  are  sanctions  of  virtue,  or 
additional  motives  to  the  practice  of  it,  but  they  suppose  the 
existence  of  some  previoiis  oblig.ition. 

'  In  the  last  place,  if  moral  obligation  be  constituted  by  a  regard 
to  our  situation  in  another  life,  how  shall  the  existence  of  a  future 
state  be  proved,  or  even  rendered  probable  by  the  light  of  nature  ? 
or  how  shall  we  discover  what  conduct  is  acceptable  to  the  Deity  ? 
The  truth  is,  that  the  strongest  presumption  for  such  a  state  is 
deduced  from  our  natural  notions  of  right  and  wrong ;  of  merit 
and  demerit ;  and  h\j.a  a  comparison  between  these  and  the 
general  course  of  human  affairs.' 

In  a  chapter  (VII.)  entitled  '  certain  principles  co-operat- 
ing with  our  moral  powers,'  he  discusses  (1)  a  regard  to 
character,  (2)  Sympathy,  (3)  the  Sense  of  the  Ridiculous, 
(4)  Taste.  The  important  topic  is  the  second,  Sympathy ; 
which,  psychologically,  he  would  appear  to  regard  as  deter- 
mined by  the  pleasure  that  it  gives.  Under  this  head  he 
introduces  a  criiicism  of  the  Ethical  theory  of  Adam  Smith  ; 
and,  adverting  to  the  inadequacy  of  the  theory  to  distinguish 
the  rigid  from  the  actual  judgments  of  mankind,  he  remarks 
on  Smith's  ingenious  fiction  '  of  an  ahsiract  man  within  the 
breast ;'  and  states  that  Smith  laid  much  greater  stress  on 
this  fiction  in  the  last  edition  of  the  Moral  Sentiments 
published  before  his  death.  It  is  not  without  reason  that 
Stewart  warns  against  grounding  theories  on  metaphorical 
expressions,  such  as  this  of  Smith,  or  the  Platonic  Common- 
wealth of  the  Soul. 

In  Book  IV.  of  the  Active  Powers,  Stewart  discusses  our 


DUTIES. — HAPPINESS.  229 

Dnties  to  Men, — both  our  fellow- creatures  and  ourselves. 
Our  duties  to  our  fellows  are  summed  up  in  Benevolence, 
Justice,  and  Veracity.  He  devotes  a  chapter  to  each.  In 
Chapter  I.,  on  Benevolence,  he  re-opens  the  consideration  of 
the  Ethical  systems  founded  on  Benevolence  or  Utility,  and 
argues  against  them  ;  but  merely  repeats  the  common-place 
objections — the  incompetency  of  individuals  to  judge  of  remote 
tendencies,  the  pretext  that  would  be  afforded  for  the  worst 
conduct,  and  each  one's  consciousness  that  a  sense  of  duty  is 
different  from  enlightened  benevolence. 

Chapter  11.  is  on  Justice  ;  defined  as  the  disposition  that 
leads  a  man,  where  his  own  interests  or  passions  are  con- 
cerned, to  act  according  to  the  judgment  he  would  form  of 
another  man's  duty  in  his  situation.  He  introduces  a  criti- 
cism on  Adam  Smith,  and  re-asserts  the  doctrine  of  an  innate 
faculty,  explained  as  the  looiuer  of  forming  moral  ideas,  and 
not  as  the  innate  possession  of  ideas.  For  the  most  part,  his 
exposition  is  didactic  and  desultory,  with  occasional  discus- 
sions of  a  critical  and  scientific  nature  ;  as,  for  example,  some 
remarks  on  Hume's  theory  that  Justice  is  an  artificial  virtue, 
an  account  of  the  basis  of  Jurisprudence,  and  a  few  observa- 
tions on  the  Riglit  of  Property. 

In  Chapter  III.,  on  Veracity,  he  contends  that  considera- 
tions of  utility  do  not  account  for  the  whole  force  of  our 
approbation  of  this  virtue.  [So  might  any  one  say  that  con- 
siderations of  what  money  can  purchase  do  not  account  for  the 
whole  strength  of  avariocj. 

In  Chapter  IV.  he  deals  with  Duties  to  ourselves,  and 
occupies  the  chapter  with  a  dissertation  on  Happiness.  He 
first  gives  an  account  of  the  theories  of  the  Stoics  and  the 
Epicureans,  which  connect  themselves  most  closely  with  the 
problem  of  Happiness ;  and  next  advances  some  observations 
of  his  own  on  the  subject. 

His  first  remark  is  on  the  influence  of  the  Temper,  by 
which  he  means  the  Resentful  or  Irascible  passion,  on  Happi- 
ness. As  against  a  censorious  disposition,  he  sets  up  the 
pleasure  of  the  benevolent  sentiments  ;  he  enjoins  candour 
with  respect  to  the  motives  of  others,  and  a  devoted  attach- 
ment to  truth  and  virtue  for  their  intrinsic  excellence  ;  and 
warns  us,  that  the  causes  that  alienate  our  affections  from  our 
fellow-creatures,  suggest  gloomy  and  Hamlet-like  conceptions 
of  the  order  of  the  universe. 

He  next  adverts  to  the  influence  of  the  Imagination  on 
Happiness.     On  this,  he  has  in  view  the  addition  made  to 


230  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — STEWART. 

onr  enjoyments  or  our  sufferings  by  the  respective  pPB- 
dominance  of  hope  or  of  fear  in  the  mind.  Allowing  for 
constitutional  bias,  he  recognizes,  as  the  two  great  sources  of 
a  desponding  imagination,  Superstition  and  Scepticism,  whose 
evils  he  descants  upon  at  length.  He  also  dwells  on  the 
influence  of  casual  associations  on  happiness,  and  comraenda 
this  subject  to  the  care  of  educators ;  giving,  as  an  example, 
the  tendency  of  associations  with  Grreece  and  Rome  to  add  to 
the  courage  of  the  classically  educated  soldier. 

His  third  position  is  the  Influence  of  our  Opinions  on 
Happiness.  He  here  quotes,  from  Ferguson,  examples  of 
opinions  unfavourable  to  Happiness ;  such  as  these :  '  that 
happiness  consists  in  having  nothing  to  do,'  'that  anything  is 
preferable  to  happiness,'  '  that  anything  can  amuse  us  better 
than  our  duties.'  He  also  puts  forward  as  a  happy  opinion 
the  Stoical  view,  '  I  am  in  the  station  that  God  has  assigned 
me.'  [It  must  be  confessed,  however,  that  these  prescriptions 
savour  of  the  Platonic  device  of  inculcating  opinions,  not 
because  of  their  truth,  but  because  of  their  supposed  good 
consequences  otherwise :  a  proceeding  scarcely  compatible 
with  an  Ethical  system  that  proclaims  veracity  as  superior  to 
utility.  On  such  a  system,  we  are  prohibited  from  looking 
to  anything  in  an  opinion  but  its  truth ;  we  are  to  suffer  for 
truth,  and  not  to  cultivate  opinions  because  of  their  happy 
results.] 

Stewart  remarks  finally  on  the  influence  of  the  Habits,  on 
which  he  notices  the  power  of  the  mind  to  accommodate 
itself  to  circumstances,  and  copies  Paley's  observations  on  the 
setting  of  the  habits. 

In  continuation  of  the  subject  of  Happiness,  he  presents  a 
classification  of  our  most  important  pleasures.  We  give  the 
heads,  there  being  little  to  detain  us  in  the  author's  brief 
illustration  of  them.  I. — The  pleasures  of  Activity  and 
Repose  ;  II. — The  pleasures  of  Sense  ;  III, — The  pleasures  of 
the  Imagination;  IV. — The  pleasures  of  the  Understanding; 
and  V. — The  pleasures  of  the  Heart,  or  of  the  various  bene- 
volent affections.  He  would  have  added  Taste,  or  Fine  Art, 
but  this  is  confined  to  a  select  few. 

In  a  concluding  chapter  (V.),  he  sums  up  the  general 
result  of  the  Ethical  enquiry,  under  the  title,  '  the  Nature 
and  Essence  of  Virtue.'  No  observation  of  any  novelty 
occurs  in  this  chapter.  Virtue  is  doing  our  duty  ;  the  inten- 
tions of  the  agent  are  to  be  looked  to ;  the  enlightened  dis- 
charge of  our  duty  often  demands  an  exercise  of  the  Reason 


SUMMAEY   OF  VIEWS.  231 

to  adjndge  between  conflicting  claims  ;  there  is  a  close  rela- 
tionship, not  defined,  between  Ethics  and  Politics. 

The  views  of  Stewart  represent,  in  the  chief  points,  al- 
though not  in  all,  the  Ethical  theory  that  has  found  the 
greatest  number  of  supporters. 

I. — The  Standard  is  internal,  or  intuitive — the  judgments 
of  a  Faculty,  called  the  Moral  Faculty.  He  does  not  approve 
of  the  phrase  'Moral  Sense,'  thinking  the  analogy  of  the 
senses  incorrect. 

II. — As  regards  Ethical  Psychology,  the  first  question  is 
determined  hy  the  remarks  on  the  Standard. 

On  the  second  question,  Free-will,  Stewart  maintains 
Liberty. 

On  the  third  question,  he  gives,  like  many  others,  an 
uncertain  sound.  In  his  account  of  Pity,  he  recognizes  three 
things,  (1^  a  painful  feeling,  (2)  a  selfish  desire  to  remove  the 
cause  of  the  uneasiness,  (8)  a  disposition  grounded  on  bene- 
volent concern  about  the  sufferer.  This  is  at  best  vague. 
Equally  so  is  what  he  states  respecting  the  pleasures  of  sym- 
pathy and  benevolence  (Book  II.,  Chapter  VIL).  There  is, 
he  says,  a  pleasure  attached  to  fellow-feeling,  a  disposition  to 
accommodate  our  minds  to  others,  wherever  there  is  a  bene- 
volent affection  ;  and,  in  all  probabilit}^,  the  pleasure  of 
sympathy  is  the  pleasure  of  loving  and  of  being  beloved. 
No  definite  proposition  can  be  gathered  from  such  loose 
allegations. 

III. — We  have  already  abstracted  his  chapter  on  Happiness. 

IV. — On  the  Moral  Code,  he  has  nothing  peculiar. 

V.  — On  the  connexion  with  Religion,  we  have  seen  that 
he  is  strenuous  in  his  antagonism  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
dependence  of  morality  on  the  will  of  God.  But,  like  other 
moralists  of  the  same  class,  he  is  careful  to  add: — 'Although 
religion  can  with  no  propriety  be  considered  as  the  sole  foun- 
dation of  morality,  yet  when  we  are  convinced  that  God  is 
infinitely  good,  and  that  he  is  the  friend  and  protector  of 
virtue,  this  belief  affords  the  most  powerful  inducements 
to  the  practice  of  every  branch  of  our  duty.'  He  has  (Book 
III.)  elaborately  discussed  the  principles  of  Natural  Religion, 
but,  like  Adam  Smith,  makes  no  reference  to  the  Bible,  or  to 
Christimity.  He  is  disposed  to  assume  the  benevolence  of 
the  Deity,  but  considers  that  to  afiirm  it  positively  is  to  go 
beyond  our  depth. 


232  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — ^BROWN. 

THOMAS   BROWN.        [1778-1820.1 

Brown's  Ethical  discussion  commences  in  the  73rd  of  hia 

Lectures.  He  first  criticises  the  multiplicity  of  expressions  used 
in  the  statement  of  the  fundamental  question  of  morals — 'What 
is  it  that  constitutes  the  action  virtuous  ?'  *  What  constitutes 
the  moral  obligation  to -perform  certain  actions?'  *  What  con- 
stitutes the  merit  of  the  agent?' — These  have  been  considered 
questions  essentially  distinct,  whereas  they  are  the  very  same 
question.  There  is  at  bottom  but  one  emotion  in  the  case, 
the  emotion  of  approbation,  or  of  disapprobation,  of  an  agent 
acting  in  a  certain  way. 

In  answer  then  to  the  question  as  thus  simplified,  *  What 
is  the  ground  of  moral  approbation  and  disapprobation  ? ' 
Brown  answers — a  simple  emotion  of  the  mind,  of  which  no 
farther  explanation  can  be  given  than  that  we  are  so  consti- 
tuted. Thus,  without  using  the  same  term,  he  sides  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  Innate  Moral  Sense.  He  illustrates  it  by 
another  elementary  fiict  of  the  mind,  involved  in  the  concep- 
tion of  cause  and  effect  on  his  theory  of  that  relation — the 
belief  that  the  future  will  resemble  the  past.  Excepting  a 
teleogical  reference  to  the  Supreme  Benevolence  of  the  Deity, 
he  admits  no  farther  search  into  the  nature  of  the  moral 
sentiment. 

He  adduces,  as  another  illustration,  what  he  deems  the 
kindred  emotion  of  Beauty.  Oiir  feeling  of  beauty  is  not  the 
mere  perception  of  forms  and  colours,  or  the  discovery  of  the 
uses  of  certain  combinations  of  forms  ;  it  is  an  emotion  arising 
from  these,  indeed,  but  distinct  from  them.  Our  feeling  of 
moral  excellence,  in  like  manner,  is  not  the  mere  perception 
of  difierent  actions,  or  the  discovery  of  the  physical  good  that 
these  may  produce ;  it  is  an  emotion  sui  generis,  superadded 
to  them. 

He  adverts,  in  a  strain  of  eloquent  indignation,  to  the 
objection  grounded  on  differences  of  men's  moral  judg- 
ment. There  are  philosophers,  he  exclaims,  '  that  can  turn 
away  from  the  conspiring  chorus  of  the  millions  of  mankind, 
in  favour  of  the  great  truths  of  morals,  to  seek  in  some  savage 
island,  a  few  indistinct  murmurs  that  may  seem  to  be  dis- 
cordant with  the  total  harmony  of  mankind.'  He  goes  on  to 
remark,  however,  that  in  our  zeal  for  the  immutability  of 
moral  distinctions,  we  may  weaken  the  case  by  contending  for 
too  much ;  and  proposes  to  consider  the  species  of  accordance 
that  may  be  safely  argued  for. 


UNIVERSALITY  OF  MORAL  DISTINCTIONS.  233 

He  beorins  by  purging  away  the  realistic  notion  of  Virtue, 
considered  as  a  self-existing  entity.  He  defines  it — a  term 
expressing  the  relation  of  certain  actions  to  certain  emotions 
in  the  minds  contemplating  them;  its  universality  is  merely 
co-extensive  with  these  minds.  He  then  concedes  that  all 
mankind  do  not,  at  every  moment,  feel  precisely  the  same 
emotions  in  contemplating  the  same  actions,  and  sets  forth 
the  limitations  as  follows ; — 

First,  In  moments  of  violent  passion,  the  mind  is  in- 
capacitated for  perceiving  moral  differences  ;  we  must,  in  such 
cases  appeal,  as  it  were,  fi-om  Philip  drunk  to  Philip  sober. 

Secondly,  Still  more  important  is  th«  limitation  arising 
fi'om  the  complexity  of  many  actions.  Where  good  and  evil 
results  are  so  blended  that  we  cannot  easily  assign  the  pre- 
ponderance, different  men  may  form  different  conclusions. 
Partiality  of  views  may  arise  from  this  cause,  not  merely  in 
individuals,  but  in  whole  nations.  The  legal  permission  of 
theft  in  Sparta  is  a  case  in  point.  Theft,  as  theft,  and  without 
relation  to  the  political  object  of  inuring  a  warlike  people, 
would  have  been  condemned  in  Sparta,  as  well  as  with  us. 
[The  retort  of  Locke  is  not  out  of  place  here  ;  an  innate  moral 
sentiment  that  permits  a  fundamental  virtue  to  be  set  aside 
on  the  ground  of  mere  state  convenience,  is  of  very  little 
value.]  He  then  goes  on  to  ask  whether  men,  in  approving 
these  exceptions  to  morality,  approve  them  because  they  are 
immoral  ?  [The  opponents  of  a  moral  sense  do  not  contend 
for  an  tmmoral  sense.]  Suicide  is  not  commended  because  it 
deprives  society  of  useful  members,  and  gives  sorrow  to  rela- 
tions and  friends;  the  exposure  of  infants  is  not  justified  on 
the  plea  of  adding  to  human  suffering. 

Again,  the  differences  of  cookery  among  nations  are  much 
wider  than  the  differences  of  moral  sentiment ;  and  yet  no  one 
denies  a  fundamental  susceptibility  to  sweet  and  bitter.  It  is 
not  contended  that  we  come  into  the  world  with  a  knowledge 
of  actions,  but  that  we  have  certain  susceptibilities  of  emotion, 
in  consequence  of  which,  it  is  impossible  for  us,  in  after  life, 
unless  from  counteracting  circumstances,  to  be  pleased  with 
the  contemplation  of  certain  actions,  and  disgusted  with  cer- 
tain other  actions.  When  the  doctrine  is  thus  stated,  Paley's 
objection,  that  we  should  also  receive  from  nature  the  notions 
of  the  actions  themselves,  falls  to  the  ground.  As  well  might 
we  require  an  instinctive  notion  of  all  possible  numbers,  to 
bear  out  our  instinctive  sense  of  proportion. 

A  third  limitation  must  be  added,  the  influence  of  the 


234  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — BROWN. 

principle  of  Association.  One  way  that  this  operates  is  to 
transfer,  to  a  whole  class  of  actions,  the  feelings  peculiar  to 
certain  marked  individuals.  Thus,  in  a  civilized  country, 
where  property  is  largely  possessed,  and  under  complicated 
tenures,  we  become  very  sensitive  to  its  violation,  and  acquire 
a  proportionably  intense  sentiment  of  Justice.  Again,  asso- 
ciation operates  in  modifying  our  approval  and  disapproval  of 
actions  according  to  their  attendant  circumstances;  as  when 
we  extenuate  misconduct  in  a  beloved  person. 

The  author  contends  that,  notwithstanding  these  limita- 
tions, we  still  leave  unimpaired  the  approbation  of  unmixed 
good  as  good,  and  the  disapprobation  of  unmixed  evil  as  evil. 
His  farther  remarks,  however,  are  mainly  eloquent  declama- 
tion on  the  universality  of  moral  distinctions. 

He  proceeds  to  criticise  the  moral  systems  from  Hobbes 
downwards.  His  remarks  (Lecture  76)  on  the  province  of 
Reason  in  Morality,  with  reference  to  the  systems  of  Clarke 
and  Wollaston,  contain  the  gist  of  the  matter  well  expressed. 

He  next  considers  the  theory  of  Utility.  That  Utility 
bears  a  certain  relation  to  Virtue  is  unquestionable.  Benevo- 
lence means  good  to  others,  and  virtue  is  of  course  made  up, 
in  great  part,  of  this.  But  then,  if  Utility  is  held  to  be  the 
measure  of  virtue,  standing  in  exact  proportion  to  it,  the  pro- 
position is  very  far  from  true  ;  it  is  only  a  small  portion  of 
virtuous  actions  wherein  the  measure  holds. 

He  does  not  doubt  that  virtuous  actions  do  all  tend,  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  to  the  advantage  of  the  world.  But  he 
considers  the  question  to  be,  whether  what  we  have  alone  in 
view,  in  approving  cp-Hain  actions,  be  the  amount  of  utility 
that  they  bring ;  wLcr^her  we  have  no  other  reason  for  com- 
mending a  man  than  for  praising  a  chest  of  drawers. 

Consider  this  question  first  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
agent.  Does  the  mother,  in  watching  her  sick  infant,  think 
of  the  good  of  mankind  at  that  moment?  Is  the  pity  called 
forth  by  misery  a  sentiment  of  the  general  good  ?  Look  at  it 
again  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  spectator.  Is  his  admira- 
tion of  a  steam-engine,  and  of  an  heroic  human  action,  the 
same  sentiment?  Why  do  we  not  worship  the  earth,  the 
source  of  all  our  utilities  ?  The  ancient  worshippers  of  nature 
always  gave  it  a  soul  in  the  first  instance. 

When  the  supporter  of  Utility  arbitrarily  confines  his 
principles  to  the  actions  of  living  beings,  he  concedes  the 
point  in  dis])ute  ;  he  ad niits  an  approvableness  peculiar  to 
living  and  voluntary  agents,  a  capacity  of  exciting  moral  emo- 


OBJECTIONS   TO   UTILITY   AS   THE    STANDARD.         235 

tions  not  commensurate  with  any  utility .  Hume  says,  that 
the  sentiments  of  utility  connected  with  human  beings  are 
mixed  with  affection,  esteem,  and  approbation,  which  do  not 
attach  to  the  utility  of  inanimate  things.  Brown  replies,  that 
these  are  the  very  sentiments  to  be  accounted  for,  the  moral 
part  of  the  case. 

But  another  contrast  may  be  made ;  namely,  between  the 
utility  of  virtue  and  the  utility  of  talent  or  genius,  which  we 
view  with  very  different  and  unequal  sentiments  ;  the  inven- 
tors of  the  printing  press  do  not  rouse  the  same  emotions  as 
the  charities  of  the  Man  of  Ross. 

Still,  he  contends,  like  the  other  supporters  of  innate 
moral  distincti(jns,  for  a  pre-established  harmony  between  the 
two  attributes.  Utility  and  virtue  are  so  intimately  related, 
that  there  is  perhaps  no  action  generally  felt  by  us  as  virtuous, 
but  what  is  generally  beneficial.  Bat  this  is  only  discovered 
by  reflecting  men ;  it  never  enters  the  mind  of  the  unthinking 
multitude.  Nay,  more,  it  is  only  the  Divine  Being  that  can 
fully  master  this  relationship,  or  so  prescribe  our  duties  that 
they  shall  ultimately  coincide  with  the  general  happiness. 

He  allows  that  the  immediate  object  of  the  legislator  is  the 
general  good ;  but  then  his  relationship  is  to  the  community 
as  a  whole,  and  not  to  any  particular  individual. 

He  admits,  farther,  that  the  good  of  the  world  at  large, 
if  not  the  only  moral  object,  is  a  moral  object,  in  common 
with  the  good  of  parents,  friends,  and  others  related  to  us  in 
private  life.  Farther,  it  may  be  requisite  for  the  moralist  to 
correct  our  moral  sentiments  by  requiring  greater  attention  to 
public,  and  less  to  private,  good  ;  but  this  does  not  alter  the 
nature  of  our  moral  feelings;  it  merely  presents  new  objects 
to  our  moral  discrimhiation.  It  gives  an  exercise  to  our 
reason  in  disentangling  the  complicated  results  of  our  actions. 

He  makes  it  albO  an  objection  to  Utility,  that  it  does  not 
explain  why  we  feel  approbation  of  the  useful,  and  disappro- 
bation of  the  hurtful  ;  forgetting  that  Benevolence  is  an 
admitted  fac;t  of  our  constitution,  and  may  fairly  be  assigned 
by  the  moralist  as  the  source  of  the  moral  sentiment. 

His  next  remarks  are  on  the  Selfish  Systems,  his  reply  to 
which  is  the  assertion  of  Disinterested  Affections.  He  dis- 
tinguishes two  modes  of  assigning  S5elf-interest  as  the  sole 
motive  of  virtuous  conduct.  JTirst,  it  may  be  said  that  in 
every  so-called  virtuous  action,  we  see  some  good  to  self,  near 
or  remote.  Secondly,  it  may  be  maintained  that  we  become 
at  last  disinterested  by  the  associations  of  our  own  interest. 


236  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— BROWN. 

He  calls  in  question  tliis  alleged  process  of  association. 
Because  a  man's  own  cane  is  interesting  to  him,  it  does  not 
follow  that  every  other  man's  cane  is  interesting.  [He  here 
commits  a  mistake  of  fact ;  other  men's  walking  canes  are 
interesting  to  the  interested  owner  of  a  cane.  It  may  not 
follow  that  this  interest  is  enough  to  determine  self-sacrifice.] 

It  will  be  inferred  that  Brown  contends  warmly  for  the 
existence  of  Disinterested  Affection,  not  merely  as  a  present, 
but  as  a  primitive,  fact  of  our  constitution.  He  does  not 
always  keep  this  distinct  from  the  Moral  Sentiment ;  he,  in 
fact,  mixes  the  two  sentiments  together  in  his  language,  a 
thing  almost  inevitable,  but  yet  inconsistent  with  the  advocacy 
of  a  distinct  moral  sentiment. 

He  includes  among  the  Selfish  Systems  the  Ethical  Theory 
of  Paley,  which  he  reprobates  in  both  its  leading  points- 
everlasting  happiness  as  the  motive,  and  the  will  of  God  as 
the  rale.  On  the  one  point,  this  theory  is  liable  to  all  the 
objections  against  a  purely  selfish  system  ;  and,  on  the  other 
point,  he  makes  the  usual  replies  to  the  founding  of  morality 
on  the  absolute  will  of  the  Deity. 

Brown  next  criticises  the  system  of  A.dam  Smith.  Admit- 
ting that  we  have  the  sympathetic  feeling  that  Smith  proceeds 
upon,  he  questions  its  adequacy  to  constitute  the  moral  senti- 
ment, on  the  ground  that  it  is  not  a  perpetual  accompaniment  of 
oar  actions.  There  must  be  a  certain  vividness  of  feeling  or  of 
the  display  of  feeling,  or  at  least  a  suificient  cause  of  vivid 
feeling,  to  call  the  sympathy  into  action.  In  the  numerous 
petty  actions  of  life,  there  is  an  absence  of  any  marked 
sympathy. 

But  the  essential  error  of  Smith's  system  is,  that  it  assumes 
the  very  moral  feelings  that  it  is  meant  to  explain.  If  there 
were  no  antecedent  moral  feelings,  sympathy  could  not  afford 
them  ;  it  is  only  a  mirror  to  reflect  what  is  already  in  existence. 
The  feelings  that  we  sympathize  with,  are  themselves  moral 
feelings  already  ;  if  it  were  not  so,  the  reflexion  of  them  from 
a  thousand  breasts  would  not  give  them  a  moral  nature. 

Brown  thinks  that  Adam  Smith  was  to  some  extent  misled 
by  an  ambiguity  in  the  word  sympathy ;  a  word  applied  not 
merely  to  the  participation  of  other  men's  feelings,  bat  to  the 
further  and  distinct  fict  of  the  a'-^j^whation,  of  those  feelino-s. 

Although  siding  in  the  main  with  S'lafteshury  and  Hat- 
cheson,  Bi-own  objects  to  their  designation  Moral  Sense,  as 
expressing  the  innate  power  of  moral  approbation.  If  '  Sense ' 
be  interpreted  merelj'  as  susceptibility,  he  has  nothing  to  say, 


FOUNDATION   OF  DISINTERESTED   SENTIMENT.  237 

but  if  it  mean  a  primary  raedinra  of  perception,  like  the  eye 
or  the  ear,  he  considers  it  a  mistake.  It  is,  in  his  view,  au 
emotion,  like  hope,  jealousy,  or  resentment,  rising  np  on  the 
presentation  of  a  certain  class  of  objects.  He  farther  objects 
to  the  phrase  *  moral  ideas,'  also  used  by  Hutcheson.  The 
moral  emotions  are  more  akin  to  love  and  hate,  than  to  per- 
ception or  judgment. 

Brown  gives  an  exposition  of  Practical  Ethics  under  the 
usual  heads :  Duties  to  Others,  to  God,  to  Ourselves.  Duties 
to  others  he  classifies  thus  : — I. — Negative,  or  abstinence  from 
injuring  others  in  Person,  Property,  Affections,  Character  or 
Reputation,  Knowledge  (veracity).  Virtue,  and  Tranquillity; 
11.  Positive,  or  Benevolence;  and  III. — Duties  growing  out  of 
our  peculiar  ties — Affinity,  Friendship,  Good  offices  received, 
Contract,  and  Citizenship. 

To  sum  up — 

I. — As  regards  the  Standard,  Brown  contends  for  an  Innate 
Sentiment, 

II. — The  Faculty  being  thus  determined,  along  with  the 
Standard,  we  have  only  to  resume  his  views  as  to  Disinterested 
action.  For  a  full  account  of  these,  we  have  to  go  beyond 
the  strictly  Ethical  lectures,  to  his  analysis  of  the  Emotions, 
Sj)eaking  of  love,  he  says  that  it  includes  a  desire  of  doing 
good  to  the  person  loved ;  that  it  is  necessarily  pleasurable 
because  there  must  be  some  quality  in  the  object  that  gives 
pleasure  ;  but  it  is  not  the  mere  pleasure  of  loving  that  makes 
ns  love.  The  qualities  are  delightful  to  love,  and  yet  impos- 
sible not  to  love.  He  is  more  explicit  when  he  comes  to  the 
consideration  of  Pity,  recognizing  the  existence  of  sympathy, 
not  only  without  liking  for  the  object,  bat  with  positive  dis- 
like. In  another  place,  he  remarks  that  we  desire  the  happi- 
ness of  our  fellows  simply  as  human  beings.  He  is  opposed 
to  the  theory  that  would  trace  our  disinterested  aflPections  to 
a  selfish  origin,  lie  makes  some  attempt  to  refer  to  the  laws  of 
Association,  the  t;iking  in  of  other  men's  emotions,  but  thinks 
that  there  is  a  reflex  process  besides. 

Although  recognizing  in  a  vague  way  the  existence  of 
genuine  disinterested  impulses,  he  dilates  eloquently,  and 
often,  on  the  deliciousness  of  benevolence,  and  of  all  virtuous 
feelings  and  conduct. 

WILLIAM  TALEY.         [I743-LS05]. 

The  First  Book  of  Paley's  '  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy* 
is  entitled    '  Preliminary   CoxsiDEii.vnoxs  -.'    it  is  in  fact  an 


238  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS —PALE Y. 

unmethodical  account  of  various  fundamental  points  of  the 
subject.  He  begins  hj  defining  Moral  Philosophy  as  *  that 
science  ivhicli  teaches  men  thalr  cluti/,  and  the  reasons  of  it.*  The 
ordinary  rules  are  defective  and  may  mislead,  unless  aided  by 
a  scientific  investigation.  These  ordinary  rules  are  the  Law 
of  Honour,  the  Law  of  the  Land,  and  the  Scriptures. 

He  commences  with  the  Law  of  Honour,  which  he  views 
in  its  narrow  sense,  as  applied  to  people  of  rank  and  fasliion. 
This  is  of  course  a  very  limited  code. 

The  Law  of  the  Land  also  must  omit  many  duties,  properly 
compulsory,  as  piety,  benevolence,  &c.  It  must  also  leave 
unpunished  many  vices,  as  luxary,  prodigality,  partiality.  It 
must  confine  itself  to  offences  strictly  definable. 

The  Scriptures  lay  down  general  rules,  whicb  have  to  be 
applied  by  the  exercise  of  reason  and  judgment.  Moreover, 
they  pre-suppose  the  principles  of  natural  justice,  and  supply 
new  sanctions  and  greater  certainty.  Accordingly,  they  do 
not  dispense  with  a  scientific  view  of  morals. 

[The  correct  arrangement  of  the  common  rules  would  have 
been  (1)  the  Law  of  the  Land,  (2)  the  Laws  of  Society 
generally,  and  (3)  the  Scriptures.  The  Law  of  Honour  is 
merely  one  application  of  the  comprehensive  agency  of  society 
in  punishing  men,  by  excommunication,  for  what  it  prohibits.] 

Then  follows  his  famous  chapter  on  the  Moral  Sense. 

It  is  by  way  of  giving  an  efieciive  statement  of  the  point 
in  dispute  that  he  quotes  the  anecdote  of  Caius  Toranius,  as 
an  extreme  instance  of  filial  ingratitude,  and  supposes  it  to 
be  put  to  the  wild  boy  cauglit  in  the  woods  of  Hanover,  with 
the  view  of  ascertaining  whether  he  would  feel  the  sentiment 
of  disapprobation  as  we  do.  Those  that  affirm  an  innate 
moral  sense,  must  answer  in  the  affirmative  ;  those  that  deny 
it,  in  the  negative. 

He  then  recites  the  arguments  on  both  sides. 

For  the  moral  sense,  it  is  contended,  that  we  approve 
examples  of  generosity,  gratitude,  fidelity,  &c.,  on  the  instant, 
without  deliberation  and  without  being  conscious  of  any 
assignable  reason  ;  and  that  this  approbation  is  uniform  and 
universal,  the  same  sorts  of  conduct  being  approved  or  dis- 
approved in  all  ages  and  countries;  wliich  oircumstancea 
point  to  the  operation  of  an  instinct,  or  a  moral  sense. 

The  answers  to  these  allegations  are — 

First,  The  Uniformitij  spoken  of  is  not  admitted  as  a  fact. 
According  to  the  authentic  accounts  of  historians  and  travellers, 
there  is  scarcely  a  single  vice  that,  in  some  age  or  country  of 


THE  MOKAL   SEXSE.  239 

the  world,  has  not  been  countenanced  by  public  opinion.  The 
marder  of  aged  parents,  theft,  suicide,  promiscuous  intercourse 
of  the  sexes,  and  unmentionable  crimes  have  been  tolerated 
and  approved.  Among  ourselves,  Duelling  is  viewed  with 
the  most  opposite  sentiments ;  forgiveness  of  injuries  is  ac- 
counted by  some  people  magnanimity,  and  by  others  meanness. 
In  these,  and  in  many  other  instances,  moral  approbation  fol- 
lows the  fashions  and  institutions  of  the  country,  which 
institutions  have  themselves  grown  out  of  local  circumstances, 
the  arbitrary  authority  of  some  chiefcain,  or  the  caprice  of  the 
multitude. 

Secondly,  That,  although,  after  allowing  for  these  excep- 
tions, it  is  admitted  that  some  sorts  of  actions  are  more  ap- 
proved than  others,  the  approbation  being  general,  although 
not  universal,  yet  this  may  be  accounted  for,  without  sup- 
posing a  moral  sense,  thus  : — 

Having  experiencad  a  particular  line  of  conduct  as  bene- 
jficial  to  ourselv^es,  for  example,  telling  the  truth,  a  sentiment 
of  approbation  grows  up  in  consequence,  and  this  sentiment 
thereupon  arises  whenever  the  action  is  mentioned,  and 
without  our  thinking  of  the  consequences  in  each  instance. 
The  process  is  illustrated  by  the  love  of  money,  which  is 
strongest  in  the  old,  who  least  of  all  think  of  applying  it  to 
its  uses.  By  such  means,  the  approval  of  certain  actions  is 
commenced;  and  being  once  commenced,  the  continuance  of 
the  feeling  is  accounted  for  by  authority,  by  imitation,  and  by 
all  the  usages  of  good  society.  As  soon  as  an  entire  society 
is  possessed  of  an  ethical  view,  the  initiation  of  the  new  mem- 
bers is  sure  and  irresistible.  The  efB.cacy  of  Imitation  is 
shown  in  cases  w^here  there  is  no  authority  or  express  training 
employed,  as  in  the  likings  and  dislikings,  or  tastes  and  anti- 
pathies, in  mere  matters  of  indifference. 

So  much  in  reply  to  the  alleged  uniformity.  Next  come 
the  positive  objections  to  a  Moral  Instinct. 

In  the  first  place,  moral  rules  are  not  absolutely  and  uni- 
versally true ;  they  bend  to  circumstances.  Veracity,  which 
is  a  natural  duty,  if  there  be  any  such,  is  di-^pensed  with  in 
case  of  an  enemy,  a  thief,  or  a  madman.  The  obligation  of 
promises  is  released  under  certain  circumstances. 

In  the  next  place,  the  Instinct  must  bear  with  it  the  idea 
of  the  actions  to  be  approved  or  disapproved ;  but  we  are  not 
born  with  any  such  ideas. 

On  the  whole,  either  there  exist  no  moral  instincts,  or 
they  are  undistinguishable  from  prejudices  and  habits,  and 


240  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— PALE Y. 

are  not  to  be  trusted  in  moral  reasonings.  Aristotle  held  it 
as  self-evident  that  barbarians  are  meant  to  be  slaves  ;  so  do 
our  modern  slave-traders.  This  instance  is  one  of  many  to 
show  that  the  convenience  of  the  parties  has  much  to  do  with 
the  rise  of  a  moral  sentiment.  And  every  system  built  upon 
instincts  is  more  likely  to  find  excuses  for  existing  opinions 
and  practices  than  to  reform  either. 

Again  :  supposing  these  Instincts  to  exist,  what  is  their 
authority  or  power  to  punish  ?  Is  it  the  infliction  of  remorse  ? 
That  may  be  borne  with  for  the  pleasures  and  profits  of  wick- 
edness. If  they  are  to  be  held  as  indications  of  the  will  of 
God,  and  therefore  as  presages  of  his  intentions,  that  result 
may  be  arrived  at  by  a  surer  road. 

The  next  preliminary  topic  is  Human  Happiness. 
Happiness  is  defined  as  the  excess  of  pleasure  over  pain. 
Pleasures  are  to  be  held  as  difiering  only  in  continuance,  and 
in  iniensity.  A  computation  made  in  respect  of  these  two  pro- 
perties, confirmed  by  the  degrees  of  cheerfulness,  tranquillity, 
and  contentment  observable  among  men,  is  to  decide  all 
questions  as  to  human  happiness. 

I. — What  Human  Happiness  does  not  consist  in. 
Not  in  the  pleasures  of  Sense,  in  whatever  profusion  or 
variety   enjoyed ;    in   which   are  included  sensual  pleasures, 
active  sports,  and  Fine  Art. 

1st,  Because  they  last  for  a  short  time.  [Surely  they  are 
good  for  the  time  they  do  last.]  2ndly,  By  repetition,  they 
lose  their  relish.  [Intermission  and  variety,  however,  are 
to  be  supposed.]  3rdly,  The  eagerness  for  high  and  intense 
delights  takes  away  the  relish  from  all  others. 

Paley  professes  to  have  observed  in  the  votaries  of  pleasure 
a  restless  craving  for  variety,  languor  under  enjoyment,  and 
misery  in  the  want  of  it.  After  all,  however,  these  pleasures 
have  their  value,  and  may  be  too  much  despised  as  well  as 
too  much  followed. 

Next,  happiness  does  not  consist  in  the  exemption  from 
pain  (?),  from  labour,  care,  business,  and  outward  evils;  such 
exemption  leaving  one  a  prey  to  moibid  depression,  anxiety, 
and  liypochondvia.  Even  a  pain  in  moderation  may  be  a 
refreshn:ient,  from  giving  a  stimulus  to  pursuit. 

Nor  does  it  consist  in  greatness,  rank,  or  station.  The 
reason  here  is  derived,  as  usual,  irom  the  doctrine  of  Relativity 
or  Comparison,  pushed  beyond  all  just  limits.  The  illustration 
of  the  dependence  of  the  pleasure  of  superiority  on  comparison 
is  in  Paley's  happiest  style. 


DEFINITION  OF  VIRTUE   EQUIVOCAL.  241 

II. — What  happiness  does  consist  in.  Allowing  for  the 
great  difficulties  of  this  vital  determination,  he  proposes  to  be 
goveraed  by  a  reference  to  the  conditions  of  life  where  men. 
appear  most  cheerful  and  contented. 

It  consists,  1st,  In  the  exercise  of  the  social  affections. 
2ndly,  The  exercise  of  our  faculties,  either  of  body  or  of  mind, 
in  the  pursuit  of  some  engaging  end.  [This  includes  the  two 
items  of  occupation  and  plot-interest.]  3rdly,  Upon  the  pru- 
dent constitution  of  the  habits  ;  the  prudent  constitution  being 
chiefly  in  moderation  and  simplicity  of  life,  or  in  demanding 
few  stimulants ;  and  4th ly,  In  Healtb,  whose  importance  he 
values  highly,  but  not  too  highly. 

The  consideration  of  these  negative  and  positive  conditions, 
he  thinks,  justifies  the  two  conclusions:  (1)  That  happiness 
is  pretty  equally  distributed  amongst  the  different  orders  of 
society ;  and  (2)  That  in  respect  of  this  world's  happiness, 
vice  has  no  advantage  over  virtue. 

The  last  subject  of  the  First  Book  is  Virtue.  The  defini- 
tion of  virtue  is  '  tlie  doing  ijoud  to  manJchid,  in  obedience  to  the 
ivill  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness.* 

If  this  were  strictly  interpreted  according  to  its  form,  it 
would  mean  that  tbree  things  go  to  constitute  virtue,  any  one 
of  which  being  absent,  we  should  not  have  virtue.  Doing 
good  to  mankind  alone  is  not  virtue,  unless  coupled  with  a 
divine  requirement ;  and  this  addition  would  not  suffice,  with- 
out the  fiU'ther  circumstance  of  everlasting  happiness  as  the 
reward.  But  such  is  not  his  meaning,  nor  is  it  easy  to  fix 
the  meaning.  He  unites  the  two  conditions — Human  Happi- 
ness and  the  Will  of  the  Deity — and  holds  them  to  coincide 
and  to  explain  one  anolher.  Either  of  the  two  would  be  a 
sufficient  definition  of  virtue;  and  he  would  add,  as  an  ex- 
planatory proposition  and  a  guide  to  practice,  that  the  one 
may  be  taken  as  a  clue  to  the  other.  In  a  double  criterion 
like  this,  everything  depends  upon  the  manner  of  w^orking  it. 
By  running  from  one  of  the  tests  to  another  at  discretion,  we 
may  evade  whatever  is  disagreeable  to  us  in  both. 

Book  II.,  entitled  Moral  Obligation,  is  the  full  develop- 
ment of  his  views.  Reciting  vari(jus  theories  of  moral  right 
and  wrong,  he  remarks,  first,  that  they  all  ultimately  coincide  ; 
in  other  words,  all  the  theorists  agree  upon  the  same  rules  of 
duty — a  remark  to  be  received  with  allowances;  and  next, 
that  they  all  leave  the  matter  short ;  none  provide  an  ade- 
quate motive  or  inducement.  [He  omits  to  mention  the  theory 
of  the  Divine  Will,  which  is  partly  his  own  theory]. 
11 


24:2  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — PALEY. 

In  proceeding  to  supply  this  want,  he  asks  first  *  wliat  is 
meant  by  being  obliged  to  do  a  thing;'  and  answers,  *a  violent 
motive  restilting  frora  the  command  of  another,'  The  motive 
must  be  violent,  or  have  some  degree  of  force  to  overcome 
reluctance  or  opposing  tendencies.  It  must  also  result  from 
the  command  of  another ;  not  the  mere  offer  of  a  gratuity  by 
way  of  inducement.  Such  is  the  nature  of  Law ;  we  should 
not  obey  the  magistrate,  unless  rewards  or  punishments  de- 
pended on  our  obedience  ;  so  neither  should  we,  without  the 
same  reason,  do  what  is  right,  or  obey  God. 

He  then  resumes  11  ie  general  question,  under  a  concrete 
case,  *  Why  am  I  obliged  to  keep  my  word  ?'  The  answer 
accords  with  the  above  explanation  ; — Because  I  am  urged  to 
do  so  by  a  violent  motive  (namely,  the  rewards  and  punish- 
ments of  a  future  life),  resulting  from  the  command  of  God. 
Private  happiness  is  the  motive,  the  will  of  God  the  rule. 
[Althousrh  not  brought  out  in  the  present  connexion,  it  is 
implied  that  the  will  of  God  intends  the  happiness  of  man- 
kind, and  is  to  be  interpreted  accordingly.] 

Previously,  when  reasoning  on  the  means  of  human  happi- 
ness, he  declared  it  to  be  an  established  conclusion,  that  virtue 
leads  to  happiness,  even  in  this  life  ;  now  he  bases  his  own 
theor}'-  on  the  uncertainty  of  that  conclusion.  His  words  are, 
*  They  who  would  establish  a  system  of  morality,  independent  of 
a  future  state,  must  look  out  for  some  other  idea  of  moral  obli- 
gation, unless  they  can  shoiv  that  virtue  conducts  the  possessor 
to  certain  happiness  in  this  life,  or  to  a  much  greater  share  of 
it  than  he  could  attain  by  a  different  behaviour.'  He  does 
not  make  the  obvious  remark  that  human  authority,  as  far  as 
it  goes,  is  also  a  source  of  obligation  ;  it  works  by  the  very 
same  class  of  means  as  the  divine  authority. 

He  next  proceeds  to  enquire  into  the  means  of  determining 
the  Will  of  God.  There  are  two  sources — the  express  declara- 
tions of  Scripture,  when  they  are  to  be  had ;  and  the  design 
impressed  on  the  world,  in  other  words,  the  light  of  nature. 
This  last  source  requires  him,  on  his  system,  to  establish  the 
Divine  Benevolence ;  and  he  arrives  at  the  conclusion  that 
God  wills  and  wishes  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  and 
accordingly,  that  the  method  of  coming  at  his  will  concerning 
an}'-  action  is  to  enquire  into  the  tendency  of  that  action  to 
promote  or  to  diminish  the  general  happiness. 

He  then  discusses  Ut[L1ty,  with  a  view  of  answering  the 
objection  that  actions  may  be  useful,  and  yet  such  as  no  man 
will  allow  to  be  risht.     This  leads  him  to  distinsfuish  between 


GENERAL  RULES.  243 

the  particular  and  tlie  general  consequences  of  actions,  and  to 
enforce  the  necessity  of  General  Rules.  An  assassin,  by 
knocking  a  rich  villain  on  the  head,  may  do  immediate  and 
particular  good ;  but  the  liberty  granted  to  individuals  to  kill 
whoever  they  should  deem  injurious  to  society,  would  render 
human  life  unsafe,  and  induce  universal  terror.  '  Whatever 
is  expedient  is  right,*  but  then  it  must  be  expedient  on 
the  whole,  in  the  long  run,  in  all  its  effects  collateral  and 
remote,  as  well  as  immeraate  and  direct.  When  the 
honestum  is  opposed  to  the  utile,  the  lionestum  means  the 
general  and  remote  consequences,  the  utile  the  particular  and 
the  near. 

The  concluding  sections  of  Book  II.  are  occupied  with  the 
consideration  of  Right  and  Rights.  A  Right  is  of  course 
correlative  with  an  Obligation.  Rights  are  Natural  or  Adven- 
titious ;  Alienable  or  Inalienable ;  Perfect  or  Imperfect.  The 
only  one  of  these  distinctions  having  any  Ethical  application 
is  Perfect  and  Imperfect.  The  Perfect  Rights  are,  the  Imper- 
fect are  not,  enforced  by  Law. 

Under  the  '  general  Rights  of  mankind,'  he  has  a  discus- 
sion as  to  our  right  to  the  flesh  of  animals,  and  contends  that 
it  would  be  difficult  to  defend  this  right  by  any  arguments 
drawn  from  the  light  of  nature,  and  that  it  reposes  on  the 
text  of  Genesis  ix.  1,  2,  3. 

As  regards  the  chief  bulk  of  Paley's  work,  it  is  necessary 
only  to  indicate  his  scheme  of  the  Duties,  and  his  manner  of 
treating  them. 

Book  III.  considers  Relative  D[JTIES.  There  are  three 
classes  of  these.  First,  Relative  Duties  that  are  Determinate, 
meaning  all  those  that  are  strictly  defined  and  enforced ;  those 
growing  out  of  Promises,  Contracts,  Oaths,  and  Subscriptions 
to  Articles  of  Religion.  Secondly,  Relative  Duties  that  are 
Indeterniinate,  as  Charity,  in  its  various  aspects  of  treatment 
of  dependents,  assistance  to  the  needy,  &c. ;  the  checks  on 
Anger  and  Revenge ;  Gratitude,  &c.  Thirdly,  the  Relative 
Duties  growing  out  of  the  Sexes. 

Book  IV.  is  Duties  to  Ourselves,  and  treats  of  Self- 
defence,  Drunkenness,  and  Suicide. 

Book  V.  comprises  Duties  towards  God. 

Book  VI.  is  occupied  with  Politics  and  Political  Economy. 
It  discusses  the  Origin  of  Civil  Government,  the  Duty  of 
Submission  to  Government,  Liberty,  the  Forms  of  Govern- 
ment, the  British  Constitution,  the  Administration  of  Justice, 
<&c. 


244  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — PAiEY. 

The  Ethical  Theory  of  Paley  may  be  briefly  resnmed 
thus : — 

I. — The  Ethical  Standard  with  him  is  the  conjoined 
reference  to  the  Will  of  the  Deity,  and  to  Utilitj',  or  Human 
Happiness.  He  is  unable  to  construct  a  scheme  applicable  to 
mankind  generally,  until  they  are  first  converted  to  a  belief 
in  Revelation. 

II. — The  Psychology  implied  in  his  system  involves  his 
most  characteristic  features. 

1.  He  is  unmistakeable  in  repudiating  Innate  Moral  Dis- 
tinctions, and  on  this  point,  and  on  this  only,  is  he  thoroughly 
at  one  with  the  Utilitarians  of  the  present  day. 

2.  On  the  Theory  of  Will  he  has  no  remarks.  He  has 
an  utter  distaste  for  anything  metaphysical. 

3.  He  does  not  discuss  Disinterested  Sentiment ;  by  im- 
plication, he  denies  it.  '  Without  the  expectation  of  a  future 
existence,'  he  says,  '  all  reasoning  upon  moral  questions  is 
vain.'  He  cannot,  of  course,  leave  out  all  reference  to  gene- 
rosity. Under  '  Pecuniary  Bounty  '  he  makes  this  remark — 
*  They  who  rank  pity  amongst  the  original  impulses  of  our 
nature,  rightly  contend,  that  when  this  principle  prompts  us 
to  the  relief  of  human  misery,  it  indicates  the  Divine  intention 
and  our  duty.  Whether  it  be  an  instinct  or  a  habit  (?),  it  is, 
in  fact,  a  property  of  our  nature,  which  God  appointed,  &c.' 
This  is  his  first  argument  for  charity ;  the  second  is  derived 
from  the  original  title  of  mankind,  granted  by  the  Deity,  to 
hold  the  earth  in  common ;  and  the  third  is  the  strong 
injunctions  of  Scripture  on  this  head.  He  cannot,  it  seems, 
trust  human  nature  with  a  single  charitable  act  apart  from 
the  intervention  of  the  Deity. 

III. — He  has  an  explicit  scheme  of  Happiness. 

IV. — The  Substance  of  his  Moral  Code  is  distinguished 
from  the  current  opinions  chiefly  by  his  well-known  views  on 
Subscription  to  Articles.  He  cannot  conceive  how,  looking 
to  the  incurable  diversity  of  human  opinion  on  all  matters 
short  of  demonstration,  the  legislature  could  expect  the  per- 
petual consent  of  a  body  of  ten  thousand  men,  not  to  one 
controverted  proposition,  but  to  many  hundreds. 

His  inducements  to  the  performance  of  duty  are,  as  we  should 
expect,  a  mixed  reference  to  Public  Utility  and  to  Scripture. 

In  the  Indeterminate  Duties,  where  men  are  urged  by 
moral  considerations,  to  the  exclusion  of  legal  compulsion,  he 
Bometimes  appeals  directly  to  our  generous  sympathies,  as  well 
DB  to  self-interest,  but  usually  ends  with  the  Scripture  authority. 


PRINCIPLE  OF  UTUilTY.  245 

V. — The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Politics  is  not  a  prominent 
feature  in  Paley.  He  makes  moral  rules  repose  finally,  not 
upon  human,  but  upon  Divine  Law.  Hence  (VI.)  the  con- 
nexion of  his  system  with  Theology  is  fundamental. 

JEREMY   BENTHAM.         [1748-1832.] 

The  Ethical  System  of  Jeremy  Bentham  is  given  in  his 
work,  entitled  '  An  Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Morals 
and  Legislation,'  first  published  in  1789.  In  a  posthumous 
work,  entitled  Deontology,  his  principles  were  farther  illus- 
trated, chiefly  with  reference  to  the  minor  morals  and  amiable 
virtues. 

It  is  the  first-named  work  that  we  shall  here  chiefly 
notice.  In  it,  the  author  has  principally  in  view  Legislation  ; 
but  the  same  common  basis.  Utility,  serves,  in  his  judgment, 
for  Ethics,  or  Morals. 

The  first  chapter,  entitled  *  The  Peixciple  op  Utility/ 
begins  thus  : — '  Nature  has  placed  mankind  under  the  gover- 
nance of  two  sovereign  masters,  pain  and  pleasure.  It  is  for 
them  alone  to  point  out  what  we  ought  to  do,  as  well  as  to 
determine  what  we  shall  do.  On  the  one  hand,  the  standard 
oF  right  and  wrong ;  on  the  other,  the  chain  of  causes  and 
effects,  are  fastened  to  their  throne.  They  govern  us  in  all 
we  do,  in  all  we  say,  in  all  we  think ;  every  efl'ort  we  can 
make  to  throw  off*  our  subjection  will  serve  but  to  demonstrate 
and  confirm  it.  In  words  a  man  may  pretend  to  abjure  their 
empire,  but  in  reality  he  will  remain  subject  to  it  all  the 
while.  The  principle  of  utility  recognizes  this  subjection,  and 
assumes  it  for  the  foundation  of  that  system,  the  object  of 
which  is  to  rear  the  fabric  of  felicity  by  the  hand  of  reason 
and  of  law.  Systems  which  attempt  to  question  it,  deal  in 
sounds  instead  of  sense,  in  caprice  instead  of  reason,  in  dark- 
ness instead  of  light.' 

He  defines  Utility  in  various  phrases,  all  coming  to  the 
same  thing : — the  tendency  of  actions  to  promote  the  happi- 
ness, and  to  prevent  the  misery,  of  the  party  under  considera- 
tion, which  party  is  usually  the  community  where  one's  lot  is 
cast.  Of  this  principle  no  proof  can  be  offered  ;  it  is  the  final 
axiom,  on  which  alone  we  can  found  all  arguments  of  a  moral 
kind.  He  that  attempts  to  combat  it,  usually  assumes  it,  un- 
awares. An  opponent  is  challenged  to  say — (1)  if  he  discards 
it  wholly;  (-)  if  he  will  act  without  any  principle,  or  if  there 
is  any  other  that  he  would  judge  by  ;  (3)  if  that  other  be 
really  and  distinctly  separate  from  utility ;  (4)  if  he  is  inclined 


246  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS  — BENTHAM. 

to  set  up  his  own  approbation  or  disapprobation  as  the  role; 
and  if  so,  whether  he  will  force  that  upon  others,  or  allow  each 
person  to  do  the  same ;  (5)  in  the  first  case,  if  his  principle  ia 
not  despotical ;  (6)  in  the  second  case,  whether  it  is  not 
anarchical;  (7)  supposing  him  to  add  the  plea  of  reflection, 
let  him  say  if  the  basis  of  his  reflections  excludes  utility ;  (8) 
if  he  means  to  compound  the  matter,  and  take  utility  for  part ; 
and  if  so,  for  what  part ;  (9)  why  he  goes  so  far,  with  Utility, 
and  no  farther;  (10)  on  what  other  principle  a  meaning  can 
be  attached  to  the  words  motive  and  right. 

In  Chapter  II.,  Bentham  discusses  the  Principles  adverse 
TO  Utility.  He  conceives  two  opposing  grounds.  The  first 
mode  of  opposition  is  direct  and  constant,  as  exemplified  in 
Asceticism.  A  second  mode  may  be  only  occasional,  as  in 
what  he  terms  the  principle  of  Sympathy  and  Aritipatluj 
(Liking  and  Disliking). 

The  principle  of  Asceticism  means  the  approval  of  an 
action  according  to  its  tendency  to  diminish  happiness,  or 
obversely.  Any  one  reprobating  in  any  shape,  pleasure  as 
such,  is  a  partisan  of  this  principle.  Asceticism  has  been 
adopted,  on  the  one  hand,  by  certain  moralists,  from  the  spur 
of  philosophic  pride  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  by  certain  re- 
ligionists, under  the  impulse  of  fear.  It  has  been  much  less 
admitted  into  Legislation  than  into  Morals.  It  may  have 
originated,  in  the  first  instance,  with  hasty  speculators,  look- 
ing at  the  pains  attending  certain  pleasures  in  the  long  run, 
and  pushing  the  abstinence  from  such  pleasures  (justified  to  a 
certain  length  on  prudential  grounds)  so  far  as  to  fall  in  love 
with  pain. 

The  other  principle.  Sympathy  and  Antipathy,  means  the 
unreasoning  appi-obation  or  disapprobation  of  the  individual 
mind,  where  fancy,  caprice,  accidental  liking  or  disliking,  may 
mix  with  a  regard  to  human  happiness.  This  is  properly  the 
negation  of  a  principle.  What  we  expect  to  find  in  a  principle 
is  some  external  consideration,  w^arranting  and  guiding  our 
sentiments  of  approbation  and  disapprobation  ;  a  basis  that  all 
are  agreed  upon. 

It  is  under  this  head  that  Bentham  rapidly  surveys  and 
dismisses  all  the  current  theories  of  Right  and  Wrong. 
They  consist  all  of  them,  he  says,  in  so  many  contrivances  for 
avoiding  an  appeal  to  any  external  standard,  and  for  requiring 
lis  to  accept  the  author's  sentiment  or  opinion  as  a  reason  for 
itself.  The  dictates  of  this  principle,  however,  will  often 
Duintentionally  coincide  with  utility ;   for  what  more  natural 


THE   SANCTIONS.  247 

gronnd  of  hatred  to  a  practice  can  there  be  than  its  mis- 
chievous tendency  ?  The  things  that  men  suffer  by,  they 
will  be  disposed  to  hate.  Still,  it  is  not  constant  in  its 
operation  ;  for  people  may  ascribe  the  suffering  to  the  wrong 
cause.  The  principle  is  most  liable  to  err  on  the  side  of 
severity;  differences  of  taste  and  of  opinion  are  sufficient 
grounds  for  quarrel  and  resentment.  It  will  err  on  the  side 
of  lenity,  when  a  mischief  is  remote  and  imperceptible. 

The  author  reserves  a  distinct  handling  for  the  Theological 
principle ;  alleging  that  it  falls  under  one  or  other  of  the  three 
foregoing.  The  Will  of  God  must  mean  his  will  as  revealed 
in  the  sacred  writings,  which,  as  the  labours  of  divines  testify, 
themselves  stand  in  need  of  interpretation.  What  is  meant, 
in  fact,  is  the  jjresumjjfive  will  of  God ;  that  is,  what  is  pre- 
sumed to  be  his  will  on  account  of  its  conformity  with  another 
principle.  We  are  pretty  sure  that  what  is  right  is  conformable 
to  his  will,  but  then  this  requires  us  first  to  know  what  is  right. 
The  usual  mode  of  knowing  God's  pleasure  (he  remarks)  is  to 
observe  what  is  our  own  pleasure,  and  pronounce  that  to  be  his. 

Chapter  III.  On  Four  Sanctions  or  Sources  of  Pain  and 
Pleasure  whereby  men  are  stimulated  to  act  right ;  they 
are  termed,  ]3hysical,  political^  vioral,  and  religiuus.  These  are 
the  Sanctions  of  Right. 

The  ijhijsical  sanction  includes  the  pleasures  and  pains 
arising  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  unmodified  by  the 
will  of  any  human  being,  or  of  any  supernatural  being. 

The  jpolitical  sanction  is  what  emanates  from  the  sovereign 
or  supreme  ruling  power  of  the  state.  The  punishments  of 
the  Law  come  under  this  head. 

The  moral  or  jpop'idar  sanction  results  from  the  action  of 
the  community,  or  of  the  individuals  that  each  person  comes  in 
contact  with,  acting  without  any  settled  or  concerted  rule. 
It  corresponds  to  public  opinion,  and  extends  in  its  operation 
beyond  the  sphere  of  the  law. 

The  religious  sanction  proceeds  from  the  immediate  hand 
of  a  superior  invisible  being,  either  in  the  present,  or  in  a 
future  life. 

The  name  Punishment  is  applicable  only  to  the  three  last. 
The  sufi'ering  that  befalls  a  man  in  the  course  of  nature  is 
termed  a  calamiti/  ;  if  it  happen  through  imprudence  on  his 
part,  it  may  be  styled  a  punishment  issuing  from  the  physical 
sanction. 

Chapter  IV.  is  the  Value  of  a  lot  of  Pleasure  or  Pain, 
HOW  TO  BE  Measured.     A  pleasure  or  a  pain  is  determined  to 


248  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — BENTHaM. 

be  greater  or  less  according  to  (1)  its  intensity^  (2)  its  dura* 
Hon,  (3)  its  certainty  or  uncertainty^  (4)  its  propinquity  or 
remoteness;  all  wbich  are  obvious  distinctions.  To  these  are 
to  be  added  (5)  its  fecundity^  or  the  chance  it  has  of  being 
followed  by  other  sensations  of  its  own  kind ;  that  is  pleasures 
if  it  be  pleasure,  pains  if  it  be  pain.  Finally  (6)  its  purity^  or 
the  chance  of  its  being  unmixed  with  the  opposite  kind ;  a 
pure  pleasure  has  no  mixture  of  pain.  All  the  six  properties 
apply  to  the  case  of  an  individual  person ;  where  a  plurality  are 
concerned,  a  new  item  is  present,  (7)  the  extent,  or  the  number 
of  persons  affected.  These  properties  exhaust  the  meaning  of 
the  terms  expressing  good  and  evil ;  on  the  one  side,  happi- 
ness, convenience,  advantage,  benefit,  emolument,  profit, 
&c. ;  and,  on  the  other,  unhappiness,  inconvenience,  disad- 
vantage, loss,  mischief,  and  the  like. 

Next  follows,  in  Chapter  V.,  a  classified  enumeration  of 
Pleasures  and  Pains.  In  a  system  undertaking  to  base  all 
Moral  and  Political  action  on  the  production  of  happiness, 
such  a  classification  is  obviously  required.  The  author  pro- 
fesses to  have  grounded  it  on  an  analysis  of  human  nature, 
which  analysis  itself,  however,  as  being  too  metaphysical,  he 
withholds.  * 

The  simple  pleasures  are: — 1.  The  pleasures  of  sense. 
2.  The  pleasures  of  wealth.  3.  The  pleasures  of  skill.  4.  The 
pleasures  of  amity.  5.  The  pleasures  of  a  good  name.  6.  The 
pleasures  of  power.  7.  The  pleasures  of  piety.  8.  The  plea- 
sures of  benevolence.  9.  The  pleasures  of  malevolence. 
10.  The  pleasures  of  memory.  11.  The  pleasures  of  imagi- 
nation. 12.  The  pleasures  of  expectation.  13.  The  pleasures 
dependent  on  association.     14.   The  pleasures  of  relief. 

The  simple  pains  are  : — 1.  The  pains  of  privation.  2.  The 
pains  of  the  senses.  3.  The  pains  of  awkwardness.  4.  The 
pains  of  enmity.  5.  The  pains  of  an  ill  name.  6.  The  pains 
of  piety.  7.  The  pains  of  benevolence.  8.  The  pains  of  male- 
volence. 9.  The  pains  of  the  memory.  10.  The  pains  of  the 
imagination.  1 1 .  The  pains  of  expectation.  12.  The  pains 
dependent  on  association. 

We  need  not  quote  his  detailed  subdivision  and  illustration 
of  these.  At  the  close,  he  marks  the  important  difi*erence 
between  self-regarding  and  extra.-regarding ;  the  last  being 
those  of  benevolence  and  of  malevolence. 

In  a  long  chapter  (VI.),  he  dwells  on  Ciecumstances  influ- 
encing Sensibility.  They  are  such  as  the  following : — 1. 
Health.     2.  Strength.    3.  Hardiness.    4.  Bodily  imperfection. 


PLEASUKES  AND  PAINS. — MOTIVES.  249 

6.  Qnantity  and  Quality  of  knowledge.  6.  Strength  of  intel- 
lectual powers.  7.  Firmness  of  mind.  8.  Steadiness  of 
mind.  9.  Bent  of  inclination.  10.  Moral  sensibility.  11. 
Moral  biases.  12.  Religious  Sensibility.  13.  ReKgious 
biases.  14.  Sympathetic  Sensibility.  15.  Sympathetic  biases. 
16.  Antipathetic  sensibility.  17.  Antipathetic  biases.  18. 
Insanity.  19.  Habitual  occupations.  20.  Pecuniary  circum- 
stances. 21.  Connexions  in  the  way  of  sympathy.  22. 
Connexions  in  the  way  of  antipathy.  23.  Radical  frame  of 
body.  24.  Radical  frame  of  mind.  25.  Sex.  26.  Age.  27. 
Rank.  28.  Education.  29.  Climate.  30.  Lineage.  31. 
Government.     82.  Religious  profession. 

Chapter  VII.  proceeds  to  consider  Human  Actions  in 
GENERAL.  Right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil,  merit  and  demerit 
belong  to  actions.  These  have  to  be  divided  and  classified 
with  a  view  to  the  ends  of  the  moralist  and  the  legislator. 
Throughout  this,  and  two  other  long  chapters,  he  discusses,  as 
necessary  in  apportioning  punishment,  the  act  itself,  the  circunim 
stances,  the  intention,  and  the  consciousness — or  the  knowledge 
of  the  tendencies  of  the  act.  He  introduces  many  subdivisions 
under  each  head,  and  makes  a  number  of  remarks  of  import- 
ance as  regards  penal  legislation. 

In  Chapter  X.,  he  regards  pleasures  and  pains  in  the 
aspect  of  Motives.  Since  every  pleasure  and  every  pain,  as 
a  part  of  their  nature,  induce  actions,  they  are  often  de- 
signated with  reference  to  that  circumstance.  Hunger,  thirst, 
lust,  avarice,  curiosity,  ambition,  &c.,  are  names  of  this  class. 
There  is  not  a  complete  set  of  such  designations ;  hence  the 
use  of  the  circumlocutions,  apioetite  for,  love  of,  desire  of — sweet 
odours,  sounds,  sights,  ease,  reputation,  &c. 

Of  great  importance  is  the  Order  of  pre-eminence  ariiong 
motives.  Of  all  the  varieties  of  motives.  Good- will,  or  Bene- 
volence, taken  in  a  general  view,  is  that  whose  dictates  are 
surest  to  coincide  with  Titility.  In  this,  however,  it  is  taken 
for  granted  that  the  benevolence  is  not  so  confined  in  its 
sphere,  as  to  be  contradicted  by  a  more  extensive,  or  enlarged, 
benevolence. 

After  good-will,  the  motive  that  has  the  best  chance  of 
coinciding  with  Utility  is  Love  of  Reputation.  The  coincidence 
would  be  perfect,  if  men's  likings  and  dislikiugs  were  governed 
exclusively  by  the  principle  of  Utility,  and  not,  as  they  often 
are,  by  the  hostile  principles  of  Asceticism,  and  of  Sympathy 
and  Antipathy.  Love  of  reputation  is  inferior  as  a  motive  to 
Good-will,  in  not  governing  the  secret  actions.     These  last 


250  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — BENTHAJil 

are  affected,  only  as  they  have  a  chance  of  becoming  pnblio, 
or  as  men  contract  a  habit  of  looking  to  public  approbation  in 
all  they  do. 

The  desire  of  Amity,  or  of  close  personal  affections,  is 
placed  next  in  order,  as  a  motive.  According  as  we  extend 
the  number  of  persons  whose  amity  we  desire,  this  prompting 
approximates  to  the  love  of  reputation. 

After  these  three  motives,  Bentham  places  the  Dictates  of 
Religion,  which,  however,  are  so  various  in  their  suggestions, 
that  he  can  hardly  speak  of  them  in  common.  Were  the 
Being,  who  is  the  object  of  religion,  universally  supposed  to 
be  as  benevolent  as  he  is  supposed  to  be  wise  and  powerful,  and 
were  the  notions  of  his  benevolence  as  correct  as  the  notions 
of  his  wisdom  and  power,  the  dictates  of  religion  would 
correspond,  in  all  cases,  with  Utility.  But  while  men  call 
him  benevolent  in  words,  they  seldom  mean  that  he  is  so  in 
reality.  They  do  not  mean  that  he  is  benevolent  as  man  is 
conceived  to  be  benevolent;  they  do  not  mean  that  he  is 
benevolent  in  the  only  sense  that  benevolence  has  a  meaning. 
The  dictates  of  religion  are  in  all  countries  intermixed,  more 
or  less,  with  dictates  unconformable  to  utility,  deduced  from 
texts,  well  or  ill  interpreted,  of  the  writings  held  for  sacred 
by  each  sect.  These  dictates,  however,  gradually  approach 
nearer  to  utility,  because  the  dictates  of  the  moral  sanction 
do  so. 

Such  are  the  four  Social  or  Tutelary  Motives,  the  anta- 
gonists of  the  Dissocial  and  Self- regarding  motives,  which 
include  the  remainder  of  the  catalogue. 

Chapter  XI.  is  on  Dispositions.  A  man  is  said  to  be  of  a 
mischievous  disposition,  when  he  is  presumed  to  be  apt  to 
engage  rather  in  actions  of  an  apparently  pernicious  tendency, 
than  in  such  as  are  apparently  beneficial.  The  author  lays 
down  certain  Rules  for  indicating  Disposition.  Thas,  '  The 
strength  of  the  temptation  being  given,  the  mischievousness 
of  the  disposition  manifested  by  the  enterprise,  is  as  the 
apparent  misf'-bievousness  of  the  act,'  and  others  to  a  like 
effect. 

Chapter  XII. — Of  the  consequences  of  a  mischievous 
ACT,  is  meant  as  the  concluding  link  of  the  whole  previous 
chain  of  causes  and  effects.  He  defines  the  shapes  that 
bad  consequences  may  assume.  The  mischief  may  be 
primary,  as  when  sustained  by  a  definite  number  of  indi- 
viduals ;  or  secondary^  by  extending  over  a  multitude  of  un- 
assignable individuals.     The  evil  in  this  last  case   may  be 


PRIVATE   ETHICS — DUTIES   TO   OURSELVES.  251 

eitlier  actual  pain,  or  danger,  which  is  the  chance  of  paiD. 
Thus,  a  successful  robbery  affects,  primarily,  a  number  of 
assignable  persons,  and  secondarily,  all  persons  in  a  like 
situation  of  risk. 

He  then  proceeds  to  the  theory  of  Punishment  (XIIL, 
XIV.,  XV.),  to  the  classification  of  Offences  (XVI.),  and  to 
the  Limits  of  the  Penal  Branch  of  Jui'isprudence  (XVII.). 
The  two  first  subjects — Punishments  and  Offences — are  inter- 
esting chiefly  in  regard  to  Legislation.  They  have  also  a 
bearing  on  Morals ;  inasmuch  as  society,  in  its  private  adminis- 
tration of  punishments,  ought,  no  less  than  the  Legislator,  to 
be  guided  by  sound  scientific  principles. 

As  respects  Punishment,  he  marks  off  (1)  cases  where  it  is 
groundless-,  (2)  where  it  is  iuejjicacious,  as  in  Infancy,  Insanity, 
Intoxication,  &c.;  (3)  cases  where  it  is  unprofitahle  ;  and  (4) 
cases  where  it  is  needless.  It  is  under  this  last  herd  that  he 
excludes  from  punishment  the  dissemination  of  what  may  be 
deemed  pernicious  principles.  Punishment  is  needless  here, 
because  the  end  can  be  served  by  reply  and  exposure. 

The  first  part  of  Chapter  XVII.  is  entitled  the  *  Limits 
between  Private  Ethics  and  the  Art  of  Legislation  ;'  and  a 
short  account  of  it  will  complete  the  view  of  the  author's 
Ethical  Theory. 

Ethics  at  large,  is  defined  the  art  of  directing  men's  actions 
to  the  production  of  the  greatest  possib'o  quantity  of  happi- 
ness, on  the  part  of  those  whoso  interest  is  in  view.  Now, 
these  actions  may  be  a  man's  owti  actions,  in  which  case  they 
are  styled  the  art  of  self-government,  ov  ])rivLite  ethics.  Or  they 
may  be  the  actions  of  other  agents,  namely,  (1)  Other  human 
beings,  and  (2)  Other  Animals,  whose  interests  Bentham  con- 
siders to  have  been  disgracefully  overlooked  by  jurists  as  well 
as  by  mankind  generally. 

In  so  far  as  a  man's  happiness  depends  on  his  own  con- 
duct, he  may  be  said  to  owe  a  dutij  to  himself;  the  quality 
manifested  in  discharge  of  this  branch  of  duty  (if  duty  it  is  to 
be  called)  is  prudence.  In  so  far  as  he  affects  by  his  conduct 
the  interests  of  those  about  him,  he  is  under  a  duty  to  others. 
The  happiness  of  others  may  be  consulted  in  two  ways.  First, 
negatively,  by  forbearing  to  diminish  it  ;  this  is  called 
PiiOBiTY.  Secondly,  in  a  positive  way,  by  studying  to  increase 
it ;  which  is  expressed  by  beneficence. 

But  now  the  question  occurs,  how  is  it  that  under  Private 
Ethics  (or  apart  from  legislation  and  religion)  a  man  can  be 
under  a  motive  to  consult  other  people's  happiness  ?     By  what 


252  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — BENTHAM. 

obligations  can  he  be  bound  to  probity  and  heneficence?  A 
man  can  have  no  adequate  motives  for  consulting  any  interests 
but  his  own.  Still  there  are  motives  for  making  us  consult 
the  happiness  of  others,  namely,  the  purely  social  motive  of 
Sympathy  or  Benevolence,  and  the  semi-social  motives  of  Love 
of  Amity  and  Love  of  Reputation.  [He  does  not  say  here 
whether  Sympathy  is  a  motive  grounded  on  the  pleasure  it 
brings,  or  a  motive  irrespective  of  the  pleasure  ;  although  from 
other  places  we  may  infer  that  he  inclines  to  the  first  view.] 

Private  Ethics  and  Legislation  can  have  but  the  same  end, 
happiness.  Their  means,  the  actions  prompted,  must  be 
nearly  the  same.  Still  they  are  different.  There  is  no  case 
where  a  man  ought  not  to  be  guided  by  his  own,  or  his  fellow- 
creatures',  happiness;  but  there  are  many  cases  where  the 
legislature  should  not  compel  a  man  to  perform  such  actions. 
The  reason  is  that  the  Legislature  works  solely  by  Punish- 
ment (reward  is  seldom  applied,  and  is  not  properly  an  act  of 
legislation).  Now,  there  are  cases  where  the  punishment  of 
the  political  sanction  ought  not  to  be  used ;  and  if,  in  any  of 
these  cases,  there  is  a  propriety  of  using  the  punishments  of 
private  ethics  (the  moral  or  social  sanction),  this  circumstance 
would  indicate  the  line  of  division. 

First,  then,  as  to  the  cases  where  punishment  would  be 
groundless.  In  such  cases,  neither  legislation  nor  private 
ethics  should  interfere. 

Secondly.  As  to  cases  where  it  would  be  mefficacious,  where 
punishment  has  no  deterring  motive  power, — as  in  Infancy, 
Insanity,  overwhelming  danger,  &c., — the  public  and  the  pri- 
vate sanctions  are  also  alike  excluded. 

Thirdly.  It  is  in  the  cases  where  Legislative  punishment 
would  be  unprofitahle,  that  we  have  the  great  field  of  Private 
Ethics.  Punishment  is  unprofitable  in  two  ways.  First, 
when  the  danger  of  detection  is  so  small,  that  nothing  but 
enormous  severity,  on  detection,  would  be  of  avail,  as  in  the 
illicit  commerce  of  the  sexes,  which  has  generally  gone  un- 
punished by  law.  Secondly,  when  there  is  danger  of  in- 
volving the  innocent  with  the  guilty,  from  inability  to  define 
the  crime  in  precise  language.  Hence  it  is  that  rude  be- 
haviour, treachery,  and  ingratitude  are  not  punished  by  law  ; 
and  that  in  countries  where  the  voice  of  the  people  controls 
the  hand  of  the  legislature,  there  is  a  great  dread  of  making 
defamatio7ij  especially  of  the  government,  an  ofience  at  law. 

Private  Ethics  is  not  liable  to  the  same  difficulties  as 
Legislation  in  dealing  with  such  offences. 


PROVINCE  OF  LEGISLATION.  253 

Of  the  three  departments  of  Moral  Daty — Prudence, 
Probity,  and  Beneficence — the  one  that  least  requires  and 
admits  of  being  enforced  by  legislative  punishment  is  the 
first — Prudence.  It  can  only  be  through  some  defect  of  the 
understanding,  if  people  are  wanting  in  duty  to  themselves. 
Now,  although  a  man  may  know  little  of  himself,  is  it 
certain  the  legislator  knows  more  ?  Would  it  be  possible  to 
extirpate  drunkenness  or  fornication  by  legal  punishment  ? 
All  that  can  be  done  in  this  field  is  to  subject  the  oflPences,  iu 
cases  of  notoriety,  to  a  slight  censure,  so  as  to  cover  them 
with  a  slight  shade  of  artificial  disrepute,  and  thus  give 
strengtii  and  influence  to  the  moral  sanction. 

Legislators  have,  in  general,  carried  their  interference  too 
far  in  this  class  of  duties ;  and  the  mischief  has  been  most 
conspicuous  in  religion.  Men,  it  is  supposed,  are  liable  to 
errors  of  judgment;  and  for  these  it  is  the  determination  of  a 
Being  of  infinite  benevolence  to  punish  them  with  an  infinity 
of  torments.  The  legislator,  having  by  his  side  men  perfectly 
enlightened,  unfettered,  and  unbiassed,  presumes  that  he  has 
attained  by  their  means  the  exact  truth  ;  and  so,  when  he  sees 
his  people  ready  to  plunge  headlong  into  an  abyss  of  fire,  shall 
he  not  stretch  forth  his  hand  to  save  them  ? 

The  second  class  of  duties — the  rules  of  Prohify,  stand 
most  in  need  of  the  assistance  of  the  legislator.  There  are 
few  cases  where  it  loould  be  expedient  to  punish  a  man  for 
hurting  himself,  and  few  where  it  would  not  be  expedient  to 
punish  a  man  for  hurting  his  neighbour.  As  regards  offences 
against  property,  private  ethics  presupposes  legislation,  which, 
alone  can  determine  what  things  are  to  be  regarded  as  each 
man's  property.  If  private  ethics  takes  a  diff*erent  view  from 
the  legislature,  it  must  of  course  act  on  its  own  views. 

The  third  class  of  duties — Beneficence — must  be  aban- 
doned to  the  jurisdiction  of  private  ethics.  In  many  cases 
the  beneficial  quality  of  an  act  depends  upon  the  disposition 
of  the  agent,  or  the  possession  by  him  of  the  extra-regarding 
motives — sympathy,  amity,  and  reputation  ;  whereas  political 
action  can  work  only  through  the  self- regarding  motives.  In 
a  word  these  duties  must  be  free  or  voluntary.  Still,  the  limits 
of  law  on  this  head  might  be  somewhat  extended  ;  in  particular, 
where  a  man's  person  is  in  danger,  it  might  be  made  the  duty 
of  every  one  to  save  him  from  mischief,  no  less  than  to  ab- 
stain from  brino'inof  it  on  him. 

To  resume  the  Ethics  of  Bentham.  I. — The  Standard  or 
End  of  Morality  is  the  production  of  Happiness,  or  Utility 


254  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— BENTH AM. 

Bentham  is  thus  at  one  in  his  jBrst  principle  with  Hame  and 
with  Palej  ;  his  peculiarity  is  to  make  it  fruitful  in  numerous 
applications  both  to  legislation  and  to  morals.  He  carries 
out  the  principle  with  an  unflinching  rigour,  and  a  logical 
force  peculiarly  his  own. 

n. — His  Psychological  Analysis  is  also  studied  and 
thorough-going. 

He  is  the  first  person  to  provide  a  classification  of  plea- 
sures and  pains,  as  an  indispensable  preliminary  alike  to 
morals  and  to  legislation.  The  ethical  applications  of  these 
are  of  less  importance  than  the  legislative  ;  they  have  a  direct 
and  practical  bearing  upon  the  theory  of  Punishment. 

He  lays  down,  as  the  constituents  of  the  Moral  Faculty, 
Good-will  or  Benevolence,  the  love  of  Amity,  the  love  of 
Reputation,  and  the  dictates  of  Religion — with  a  view  to  the 
Happiness  of  others  ;  and  Prudence — with  a  view  to  our  own 
happiness.  He  gives  no  special  account  of  the  acquired  senti- 
ment of  Obligation  or  Authority — the  characteristic  of  Con- 
science, as  distinguished  from  other  impulses  having  a 
tendency  to  the  good  of  others  or  of  self.  And  yet  it  is  the 
peculiarity  of  his  system  to  identify  morality  with  law ;  so 
that  there  is  only  one  step  to  connecting  conscience  with  our 
education  under  the  diff'erent  sanctions — legal  and  ethical. 

He  would  of  course  give  a  large  place  to  the  Intellect  or 
Reason  in  making  up  the  Moral  Faculty,  seeing  that  the  con- 
sequences of  actions  have  to  be  estimated  or  judged  ;  but  he 
would  regard  this  as  merely  co-operating  with  our  sensibilities 
to  pleasure  and  pain. 

The  Disinterested  Sentiment  is  not  regarded  by  Bentham 
as  arising  from  any  disposition  to  pure  self-sacrifice.  He 
recognizes  Pleasures  of  Benevolence  and  Pains  of  Benevolence  ; 
thus  constituting  a  purely  interested  motive  for  doing  good  to 
others.  He  describes  certain  pleasures  of  Imagination  or 
Sympathy  arising  through  Association — the  idea  of  plenty, 
the  idea  of  the  happiness  of  animals,  the  idea  of  health,  the 
idea  of  gratitude.  Under  the  head  of  Circumstances  influencing 
Sensibility,  he  adverts  to  Sympathetic  Sensibility,  as  being  the 
propensity  to  derive  pleasure  from  the  happiness^  and  p am  from 
the  uiihajjjjiriess,  of  otJier  sensitive  beings.  It  cannot  but  be  ad- 
mitted, he  says,  that  the  only  interest  that  a  man  at  all 
times,  and  on  all  occasions,  is  sure  to  find  adequate  motives  for 
consulting,  is  his  own.  He  has  no  metaphysics  of  the  WilL 
He  uses  the  tevm.E  free  and  voluntary  only  with  referenc  e  r,o  spon- 
taneous beneficence,  as  opposed  to  the  compalsion  of  the  law. 


SUMMARY.  255 

m. — As  regards  Happiness,  or  the  Summum  Boniira,  he 
presents  his  scientific  classification  of  Pleasnres  and  Pains, 
without,  however,  indicating  any  plan  of  life,  for  attaining  the 
one  and  avoiding  the  other  in  the  best  manner.  He  makes  no 
distinction  among  pleasures  and  pains  excepting  what  strictly 
concerns  their  value  as  such — intensity,  duration,  certainty, 
and  nearness.  He  makes  happiness  to  mean  only  the  presence 
of  pleasure  and  the  absence  of  pain.  The  renunciation  of 
pleasure  for  any  other  motive  than  to  procure  a  greater  plea- 
sure, or  avoid  a  greater  pain,  he,  disapprovingly,  terms 
asceticism. 

IV. — It  being  the  essence  of  his  system  to  consider  Ethics 
as  a  Code  of  Laws  directed  by  Utility,  and  he  being  himself 
a  law  reformer  on  the  greatest  scale,  we  might  expect  from 
him  suggestions  for  the  improvement  of  Ethics,  as  well  as  for 
Legislation  and  Jurisprudence.  His  inclusion  of  the  interests 
of  the  lower  animals  has  been  mentioned.  He  also  contends  for 
the  partly  legislative  and  partly  ethical  innovation  of  Freedom 
of  Divorce. 

The  inducements  to  morality  are  the  motives  assigned  as 
working  in  its  favour. 

V. — The  connexions  of  Ethics  with  Politics,  the  points  of 
agreement  and  the  points  of  difference  of  the  two  departments, 
are  signified  with  unprecedented  care  and  precision  (Chap. 
XVIL). 

VI. — As  regards  the  connexions  with  Theology,  he  gives 
no  uncertam  sound.  It  is  on  this  point  that  he  stands  in 
marked  contrast  to  Paley,  who  also  professes  Utility  as  his 
ethical  foundation. 

He  recosfnizes  religion  as  furnishing-  one  of  the  Sanctions 
of  morality,  although  often  perverted  into  the  enemy  of 
utility.  He  considers  that  the  state  may  regard  as  offences 
any  acts  that  tend  to  diminish  or  misapply  the  influence  of 
religion  as  a  motive  to  civil  obedience. 

While  Paley  makes  a  conjoined  reference  to  Scripture  and 
to  Utility  in  ascertaining  moral  rules,  Bentham  insists  on 
Utility  alone  as  the  final  appeal.  He  does  not  doubt  that  if 
we  had  a  clear  unambiguous  statement  of  the  divine  will,  we 
should  have  a  revelation  of  what  is  for  human  happiness  ;  but 
he  distrusts  all  interpretations  of  scripture,  unless  they  coin- 
cide with  a  perfectly  independent  scientific  investigation  of 
th«  consequences  of  actions. 


256  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 


SIR  JAMES  MACKINTOSH.        [1765-1832.J 

In  the  *  Dissertation  on  the  progress  of  Etbical  Philosophy 
chiefly  during  the  Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth  Centuries,' 
Mackintosh  advocates  a  distinct  Ethical  theory.  His  views 
and  arguments  occur  partly  in  the  course  of  his  criticism  of 
the  other  moralists,  and  partly  in  his  concluding  General 
Kemarks  (Section  VII.). 

In  Section  I.,  entitled  Preliminary  Observations,  he  re- 
marks on  the  universality  of  the  distinction  between  Right 
and  Wrong.  On  no  subject  do  men,  in  all  ages,  coincide  on 
so  many  points  as  on  the  general  rules  of  conduct,  and  the 
estimable  qualities  of  character.  Even  the  grossest  deviations 
may  be  explained  by  ignorance  of  facts,  by  errors  with  respect  to 
the  consequences  of  actions,  or  by  inconsistency  with  admitted 
principles.  In  tribes  where  new-born  infants  are  exposed, 
the  abandonment  of  parents  is  condemned ;  the  betrayal  and 
murder  of  strangers  is  condemned  by  the  very  rules  of  faith 
and  humanity,  acknowledged  in  the  case  of  countrymen. 

He  complains  that,  in  the  enquiry  as  to  the  foundation  of 
morals,  the  two  distinct  questions — as  to  the  Standard  and  the 
Faculty — have  seldom  been  fully  discriminated.  Thus,  Paley 
opposes  Utility  to  a  Moral  Sense,  not  perceiving  that  the 
two  terras  relate  to  different  subjects ;  and  Bentham  repeats 
the  mistake.  It  is  possible  to  represent  Utility  as  the  criterioii 
of  Right,  and  a  Moral  Sense  as  the  facidty.  In  another  place, 
he  remarks  that  the  schoolmen  failed  to  draw  the  distinction. 

In  Section  V.,  entitled  '  Controversies  concerning  the 
Moral  Faculty  and  the  Social  Affections,'  and  including  the 
Ethical  theories  coming  between  Hobbes  and  Butler,  namely, 
Cumberland,  Cudworth,  Clarke,  &c.,  he  gives  his  objections 
to  the  scheme  that  founds  moral  distinctions  solely  on  the 
Reason.  Reason,  as  such,  can  never  be  a  motive  to  action ; 
an  argument  to  dissuade  a  man  from  drunkenness  must  appeal 
to  the  pains  of  ill-health,  poverty,  and  infamy,  that  is,  to 
Feelings.  The  influence  of  Reason  is  indiiect ;  it  is  merely  a 
channel  whereby  the  objects  of  desire  are  brought  into  view, 
so  as  to  operate  on  the  Will. 

The  abused  extension  of  the  term  Reason  to  the  moral 
faculties,  he  ascribes  to  the  obvious  importance  of  Reason  in 
choosing  the  means  of  action,  as  well  as  in  balancing  the  ends, 
during  which  operation  the  feelings  are  suspended,  delayed, 
and  poised  in  a  way  favourable  to  our  lasting  interests.  Hence 
the  antithesis  of  Reason  and  Passion. 


IMPORTANCE   OF  VIRTUOUS   DISPOSITIONS.  257 

In  remarking  upon  Leibnitz's  view  of  Disinterested  Senti- 
ment, and  the  coincidence  of  Virtue  with  Happiness,  he  sketches 
his  own  opinion,  which  is  that  although  every  virtuous  act 
may  not  lead  to  the  greater  happiness  of  the  agent,  yet  the 
disposition  to  virtuous  acts,  in  its  intrinsic  pleasures,  far  out- 
weighs all  the  pains  of  self-sacrifice  that  it  can  ever  occasion. 
'  The  whole  sagacity  and  ingenuity  of  the  world  may  be  fairly 
challenged  to  point  out  a  case  in  which  virtuous  dispositions, 
habits,  and  feelings  are  not  conducive  in  the  highest  degree 
to  the  happiness  of  the  individual ;  or  to  maintain  that  he  is 
not  the  happiest,  whose  moral  sentiments  and  affections  are 
such  as  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  any  unlawful  advantage 
being  presented  to  his  mind.' 

Section  VI.  is  entitled  'Foundations  of  a  more  Just  Theory 
of  Ethics,'  and  embraces  a  review  of  all  the  Ethical  writers, 
from  Butler  downwards.  The  most  palpable  defect  in  Butler's 
scheme,  is  that  it  affords  no  answer  to  the  question,  '  What  is 
the  distinguishing  quality  of  right  actions  ?  '  in  other  words. 
What  is  the  Standard  ?  There  is  a  vicious  circle  in  answering 
that  they  are  commanded  by  Conscience,  for  Conscience 
itself  can  be  no  otherwise  defined  than  as  the  faculty  that 
approves  and  commands  right  actions.  Still,  he  gives  warin 
commendation  to  Butler  generally ;  in  connexion  with,  him  he 
takes  occasion  to  give  some  farther  hints  as  to  his  own  opinions. 
Two  positions  are  here  advanced ;  1st,  The  moral  sentiments, 
in  their  mature  state,  are  a  class  of  feelings  with  no  other 
objects  than  the  dispositions  to  voluntary  actions^  and  the  actions 
flowing  from  tliese  dispositions.  We  approve  some  dispositions 
and  actions,  and  disapprove  others ;  we  desire  to  cultivate 
them,  and  we  aim  at  them  for  something  in  themselves.  This 
position  receives  light  from  the  doctrine  above  quoted  as  to 
the  supreme  happiness  of  virtuous  dispositions.  His  second 
position  is  that  Conscience  is  an  acquired  principle;  which  he 
repeats  and  unfolds  in  subsequent  places. 

He  finds  fault  with  Hume  for  ascribing  Virtue  to  qualities 
of  the  Understanding,  and  considers  that  this  is  to  confound 
admiration  with  moral  approbation.  Hume's  general  Ethical 
doctrine,  that  Utility  is  a  uniform  ground  of  moral  distinc- 
tion, he  says  can  never  be  impugned  until  some  example  be 
produced  of  a  virtue  generally  pernicious,  or  a  vice  gener- 
ally beneficial.  But  as  to  the  theory  of  moral  approbation, 
or  the  nature  of  the  Faculty,  he  considers  that  Hume's 
doctrine  of  Benevolence  (or,  still  better.  Sympathy)  does  not 
account   for  our  approbation   of  temperance   and   fortitude, 


258  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— MACKINTOSH. 

nor  for  the  supremacy  of  the  Moral  Faculty  over  all   otheF 
motives. 

He  objects  to  the  theory  of  Adam  Smith,  that  no  allowance 
is  made  in  it  for  the  transfer  of  our  feelings,  and  the  disap- 
pearing of  the  original  reference  from  the  view.  Granting 
that  our  approbation  began  in  sympathy,  as  Smith  says,  cer- 
tain it  is,  that  the  adult  man  approves  actions  and  dispositions 
as  right,  while  he  is  distinctly  aware  that  no  process  of  sym- 
pathy intervenes  between  the  approval  and  its  object.  He 
repeats,  against  Smith,  the  criticism  on  Hume,  that  the  sym- 
pathies have  no  imperative  character  of  supremacy.  He  further 
I'emarks  that  the  reference,  in  our  actions,  to  the  point  of  view 
of  the  spectator,  is  rather  an  expedient  for  preserving  our  im- 
partiality than  a  fundamental  principle  of  Ethics.  It  nearly 
coincides  with  the  Christian  precept  of  doing  unto  others  as 
we  would  they  should  do  unto  us, — an  admirable  practical 
maxim,  but,  as  Leibnitz  has  said  truly,  intended  only  as  a  cor- 
rection of  self-partiality.  Lastly,  he  objects  to  Smith,  that 
his  system  renders  all  morality  relative  to  the  pleasure  of  our 
coinciding  in  feeling  with  others,  which  is  merely  to  decide 
on  the  Faculty,  without  considering  the  Standard.  Smith 
shrinks  from  Utility  as  a  standard,  or  ascribes  its  power  over 
our  feelings  to  our  sense  of  the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends. 

He  coinmends  Smith  for  grounding  Benevolence  on  Sym- 
pathy, whereas  Butler,  Hutcbeson,  and  Hume  had  grounded 
Sympathy  on  Benevolence. 

It  is  in  reviewing  Hartley,  whose  distinction  it  was  to 
open  up  the  wide  capabilities  of  the  principle  of  Association, 
that  Mackintosh  develops  at  greatest  length  his  theory  of  the 
derived  nature  of  Conscience. 

Adverting  to  the  usual  example  of  the  love  of  money,  he 
remarks  that  the  benevolent  man  might  begin  with  an  in- 
terested affection,  but  might  end  with  a  disinterested  delight 
in  doing  good.  Self-love,  or  the  principle  of  permanent  well- 
being,  is  gradually  formed  from  the  separate  appetites,  and  is 
at  last  pursued  without  having  them  specially  in  view.  So 
Sympathy  may  perhaps  be  the  transfer,  first,  of  our  own  per- 
sonal feelings  to  other  beings,  and  next,  of  their  feelings  to 
ourselves,  thereby  engendei-ing  the  social  affections.  It  is  an 
ancient  and  obstinate  error  of  philosophers  to  regard  these 
two  principles — Self-love  and  Sympathy — as  the  source  of  the 
impelling  passions  and  afiections,  instead  of  being  the  last 
results  of  them. 

The  chief  elementary  feelings  that  go  to  constitute  the 


ELEMENTS    OF   THE   MORAL   SENSE.  259 

moral  sentiments  appear  to  be  Gratitude,  Pity,  Resentment, 
and  Shame.  To  take  the  example  of  Gratitude.  Acts  of 
beneficence  to  ourselves  give  us  pleasure  ;  we  associate  this 
pleasure  with  the  benefactor,  so  as  to  regard  him  with  a  feel- 
ing of  complacency ;  and  when  we  view  other  beneficent 
beings  and  acts  there  is  awakened  within  us  our  own  agree- 
able experience.  The  process  is  seen  in  the  child,  who  con- 
tracts towards  the  nurse  or  mother  all  the  feelings  of  com- 
placency arising  from  repeated  pleasures,  and  extends  these 
by  similarity  to  other  resembling  persons.  As  soon  as  com- 
placency takes  the  form  of  action,  it  becomes  (according  to 
the  author's  theory,  connecting  conscience  with  will),  a  part 
of  the  Conscience.  So  much  for  the  development  of  Grati- 
tude. Next  as  to  Pity.  The  likeness  of  the  outward  signs  of 
emotion  makes  us  transfer  to  others  our  own  feelings,  and 
thereby  becomes,  even  more  than  gratitude,  a  source  of  bene- 
volence ;  being  one  of  the  first  motives  to  impart  the  benefits 
connected  with  affection.  In  our  sympathy  with  the  sufferer, 
we  cannot  but  approve  the  actions  that  relieve  suffering,  and 
the  dispositions  that  prompt  them.  We  also  enter  into  his 
Resentment,  or  anger  towards  the  causes  of  pain,  and  the 
actions  and  dispositions  corresponding  ;  and  this  sympathetic 
anger  is  at  length  detached  from  special  cases  and  extended 
to  all  wrong-doers ;  and  is  the  root  of  the  most  indispensable 
compound  of  our  moral  faculties,  the  '  Sense  of  Justice.' 

To  these  internal  growths,  from  Gratitude,  Pity,  and  Re- 
sentment, must  be  added  the  education  by  means  of  well- 
framed  penal  laws,  which  are  the  lasting  declaration  of  the 
moral  indignation  of  mankind.  Tnese  laws  may  be  obeyed  as 
mere  compulsor}^  duties  ;  but  with  the  generous  sentiments 
concurring,  men  may  rise  above  duty  to  virtue^  and  may  con- 
tract that  excellence  of  nature  whence  acts  of  beneficence 
flow  of  their  own  accord. 

He  next  explains  the  growth  of  Remorse,  as  another  ele- 
ment of  the  Moral  Sense.  The  abhorrence  that  we  feel  for 
bad  actions  is  extended  to  the  agent;  and,  in  spite  of  certain 
obstacles  to  its  full  manifestation,  that  abhorrence  is  prompted 
when  the  agent  is  self. 

The  theory  of  derivation  is  bound  to  account  for  the  fact, 
recognized  in  the  language  of  mankind,  that  the  Moral  Faculty 
is  ONE.  The  principle  of  association  would  account  for  the 
fusion  of  many  different  sentiments  into  one  product,  wherein 
the  component  parts  would  cease  to  be  discerned  ;  but  this  ia 
not  enough.      \Vhy  do  these  particular   sentiments  and  no 


260  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 

others  coalesce  in  the  total — Conscience.  The  answer  is  what 
was  formerly  given  with  reference  to  Butler ;  namely,  while 
all  other  feelings  relate  to  outward  objects,  the  feelinus 
brought  together  in  conscience,  contemplate  exclusively  the 
dispositions  and  actions  of  voluntary  agents.  Conscience  is  thus 
an  acquired  faculty,  but  one  that  is  uuiversally  and  necessarily 
acquired. 

The  derivation  is  farther  exemplified  by  a  comparison  with 
the  feelings  of  Taste.  Tliese  may  have  an  original  reference 
to  fitness — as  in  the  beauty  of  a  horse — but  they  do  not  attain 
their  proper  character  until  the  consideration  of  fitness  dis- 
appears. So  far  they  resemble  the  moral  faculty.  They 
differ  from  it,  however,  in  this,  that  taste  ends  in  passive  con- 
templation or  quiescent  delight ;  conscience  looks  solely  to  the 
acts  and  dispositions  of  voluntary  agents.  This  is  the  author's 
favourite  way  of  expressing  what  is  otherwise  called  the  au- 
thority and  supremacy  of  conscience. 

To  sum  up  : — the  principal  constituents  of  the  moral  sense 
are  Gratitude,  Sympathy  (or  Pit}'^,  Resentment,  and  Shame; 
the  secondary  and  auxiliary  causes  are  Education,  Imitation, 
General  Opinion,  Laws  and  Government. 

In  criticising  Paley,  he  illustrates  forcibly  the  position, 
that  Religion  must  pre-suppose  Morality. 

His  criticism  of  Bentham  gives  him  an  opportunity  of 
remarking  on  the  modes  of  carrying  into  effect  the  principle 
of  Utility  as  the  Standard.  He  repeats  his  favourite  doctrine 
of  the  inherent  pleasures  of  a  virtuous  disposition,  as  the 
grand  circumstance  rendering  virtue  profitable  and  vice  un- 
profitable. He  even  uses  the  Platonic  figure,  and  compares 
vice  to  mental  distemper.  It  is  his  complaint  against  Bentham 
and  the  later  supporters  of  Utility,  that  they  have  misplaced 
the  application  of  the  principle,  and  have  encouraged  the  too 
frequent  appeal  to  calculation  in  the  details  of  conduct. 
Hence  arise  sophistical  evasions  of  moral  rules  ;  men  will  slide 
from  general  to  particular  consequences ;  apply  the  test  of 
utility  to  actions  and  not  to  dispositions ;  and,  in  short,  take 
too  much  upon  themselves  in  settling  questions  of  moral  right 
and  wrong.  [He  might  have  remarked  that  the  power  of  per- 
verring  the  standard  to  individual  interests  is  not  confined  to 
the  followers  of  Utility.]  He  introduces  the  saying  attributed 
to  Andrew  Fletcher,  '  that  he  would  lose  his  life  to  serve  his* 
country,  but  would  not  do  a  base  thing  to  save  it.' 

He  farther  remarks  on  the  tendency  of  Bentham  and  his 
followers  to  treat  Ethics  too  juridically.     He  would  probably 


UTILITY    DEFENDED.  261 

admit  that  Ethics  is  strictly  speaking  a  code  of  laws,  but  draws 
the  line  between  it  and  the  juridical  code,  by  the  distinctioa 
of  dispositions  and  actions.  We  may  have  to  approve  the 
author  of  an  injurious  action,  because  it  is  well-meant ;  the 
law  must  nevertheless  punish  it.  Herein  Ethics  has  its 
alliance  with  Religion,  which  looks  at  the  disposition,  or  the 
heart. 

He  is  disappointed  at  finding  that  Dugald  Stewart,  who 
made  applications  of  the  law  of  association  and  appreciated  its 
powers,  held  back  from,  and  discountenanced,  the  attempt  of 
Hartley  to  resolve  the  Moral  Sense,  styling  it  '  an  ingenious 
refinement  on  the  Selfish  system,'  and  representing  those 
opposed  to  himself  in  Ethics  as  deriving  the  afiections  from 
*  self-love.'  He  repeats  that  the  derivation  theory  affirms  the 
disinterestedness  of  human  actions  as  strongly  as  Butler  him- 
self; while  it  gets  over  the  objection  from  the  multiplication 
of  original  princiiDles  ;  and  ascribes  the  result  to  the  operation 
of  a  real  agent. 

In  replying  to  Brown's  refasal  to  accept  the  deriva- 
tion of  Conscience,  on  the  ground  that  the  process  belongs 
to  a  time  beyond  remembrance,  he  affirms  it  to  be  a  suflicient 
theory,  if  the  supposed  action  resembles  what  we  know  to  be 
the  operation  of  the  principle  where  we  have  direct  experience 
of  it. 

His  concluding  Section,  VII.,  entitled  General  Remarks, 
gives  some  farther  explanations  of  his  characteristic  views. 

He  takes  up  the  principle  of  Utility,  at  the  point  where 
Brown  bogled  at  it ;  quoting  Brown's  concession,  that  Utility 
and  virtue  are  so  related,  that  there  is  perhaps  no  action 
generally  felt  to  be  virtuous  that  is  not  beneficial,  and  that 
every  case  of  benefit  willingly  done  excites  approbation.  He 
strikes  out  Brown's  word  'perhaps,'  as  making  the  afiirmatiou 
either  conjectural  or  useless  ;  and  contends  that  the  two  facts, — 
morality  and  the  general  benefit, — being  co-extensive,  should 
be  reciprocally  tests  of  each  other.  He  qualifies,  as  usual,  by 
not  allowing  utility  to  be,  on  all  occasions,  the  immediate 
incentive  of  actions.  He  holds,  however,  that  the  main  doctrine 
is  an  essential  corollary  from  the  Divine  Benevolence. 

He  then  replies  specifically  to  the  question,  'Why  is  utility 
not  to  be  the  sole  end  present  to  the  mind  of  the  virtuous 
agent  ?'  The  answer  is  found  in  the  limits  of  man's  faculties. 
Every  man  is  not  alwnys  able,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to 
calculate  all  the  consequences  of  our  actions.  But  it  is  not  to 
be  concluded  from  this,  that  the  calculation  of  consequences  ia 


262  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 

impracticable  in  moral  subjects.  To  calculate  the  general 
tendency  of  every  sort  of  human  action  is,  he  contends,  a  pos- 
sible, easy,  and  common  operation.  The  general  good  effects 
of  temperance,  prudence,  fortitude,  justice,  benevolence,  grati- 
tude, veracity,  fidelity,  domestic  and  patriotic  affections,  may 
be  pronounced  with  as  little  error,  as  the  best  founded  m.axims 
of  the  ordinary  business  of  life. 

He  vindicates  the  rules  of  sexual  morality  on  the  grounds 
of  benevolence. 

He  then  discusses  the  question,  (on  which  he  had  charged 
Hume  with  mistake),  'Why  is  approbation  confiaed  to  volun- 
tary acts  ?  '  He  thinks  it  but  a  partial  solution  to  say  that 
approbation  and  disapprobation  are  wasted  on  what  is  not  in 
the  power  of  the  will.  The  full  solution  he  considers  to  be 
found  in  the  mode  of  derivation  of  the  moral  sentiment; 
which,  accordingly,  he  re-discusses  at  some  length.  He  pro- 
duces the  analogies  of  chemistry  to  show  that  compounds 
may  be  totally  different  from  their  elements.  He  insists  on 
the  fact  that  a  derived  pleasure  is  not  the  less  a  pleasure ;  it 
may  even  survive  the  primary  pleasure.  Self-love  (impro- 
perly so  called)  is  intelligible  if  its  origin  be  referred  to  Asso- 
ciation, but  not  if  it  be  considered  as  prior  to  the  appetites 
and  passions  that  furnish  its  materials.  And  as  the  pleasure 
derived  from  low  objects  may  be  transferred  to  the  most  pure, 
so  Disinterestedness  may  originate  with  self,  and  yet  become 
as  entirely  detached  from  that  origin  as  if  the  two  had  never 
been  connected. 

He  then  repeats  his  doctrine,  that  these  social  or  dis- 
interested sentiments  prompt  the  will  as  the  means  of  their 
gratification.  Hence,  by  a  farther  transfer  of  association,  the 
voluntary  acts  share  in  the  delight  felt  in  the  affections  that 
determine  them.  We  then  desire  to  experience  berieficent 
volitions,  and  to  cultivate  the  dispositions  to  these.  Such 
dispositions  are  at  last  desired  for  their  own  sake ;  and,  when 
so  desired,  constitute  the  Moral  Sense,  Conscience,  or  the 
Moral  Sentiment,  in  its  consummated  form.  Thus,  by  a 
fourth  or  fitth  stage  of  derivation  from  the  original  pleasures 
and  pains  of  our  constitution,  we  arrive  at  this  highly  complex 
product,  called  our  moral  nature. 

Nor  is  this  all.  We  must  not  look  at  the  side  of  indigna- 
tion to  the  wrong-doer.  We  are  angry  at  those  who  dis- 
appoint our  wish  for  the  happiness  of  others;  we  make  their 
resentment  our  own.  We  hence  approve  of  the  actions  and 
dispositions  for  punishing  such  offenders ;    while  we  so  far 


CONSCIENCE  AND  WILL  CO-EXTENSIVE.  263 

Bympathize  with  the  culprit  as  to  disapprove  of  excess  of 
puaishment.  Such  moderated  anger  is  the  sense  of  Justice, 
and  is  a  new  element  of  Conscience.  Of  all  the  virtues,  this  is 
the  one  most  directly  aided  by  a  conviction  of  general  interest 
or  utility.  All  laws  profess  it  as  their  end.  Hence  the 
importance  of  good  criminal  laws  to  the  moral  education  of 
mankind. 

Among  contributary  streams  to  the  moral  faculty,  he 
eaumerates  courage,  energy,  and  decision,  properly  directed. 

He  recognizes  'duties  to  ourselves,'  although  condemning 
the  expression  as  absurd.  Intemperance,  improvidence, 
timidity  are  morally  wrong.  Still,  as  in  other  cases,  a  man 
is  not  truly  virtuous  on  such  points,  till  he  loves  them  for 
their  own  sake,  and  even  performs  them  without  an  effort. 
These  prudential  qualities  having  an  influence  on  the  will, 
resemble  in  that  the  other  constituents  of  Conscience.  As 
a  final  result,  all  those  sentiments  whose  object  is  a  state 
of  the  will  become  intimately  and  inseparably  blended  in  the 
unity  of  Conscience,  the  arbiter  and  judge  of  human  actions, 
the  lawful  authority  over  every  motive  to  conduct. 

In  this  grand  coalition  of  the  public  and  the  private  feel- 
ings, he  sees  a  decisive  illustration  of  the  reference  of  moral 
sentiments  to  the  Will.  He  farther  recognizes  in  it  a  solution 
of  the  great  problem  of  the  relation  of  virtue  to  private  interest. 
Qualities  useful  to  ourselves  are  raised  to  the  rank  of  virtues  ; 
and  qualities  useful  to  others  are  converted  into  pleasures. 
In  moral  reasonings,  we  are  enabled  to  bring  home  virtuous 
inducements  by  the  medium  of  self-interest ;  we  can  assure  a 
man  that  by  cultivating  the  disposition  towards  other  men's 
happiness  he  gains  a  source  of  happiness  to  himself. 

The  question,  Why  we  do  not  morally  approve  in- 
voluntary actions,  is  now  answered.  Conscience  is  associated 
exclusively  with  the  dispositions  and  actions  of  voluntary 
agents.     Conscience  and  Will  are  co-extensive. 

A  difi&culty  remains.  *  If  moral  approbation  involve  no 
perception  of  beneficial  tendency,  how  do  we  make  out  the 
coincidence  of  the  two  ?  '  It  might  seem  that  the  foundation 
of  morals  is  thus  made  to  rest  on  a  coincidence  that  is 
mysterious  and  fantastic.  According  to  the  author,  the  con- 
clusive answer  is  this.  Although  Conscience  rarely  con- 
templates anything  so  distant  as  the  welfare  of  all  sentient 
beings,  yet  in  detail  it  obviously  points  to  the  production  of 
happiness.  The  social  affections  all  promote  happiness. 
Every  one  must  observe  the  tendency  of  justice  to  the  welfare 


264  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 

of  society.  The  angry  passions,  as  ministers  of  morality, 
remove  hindrances  to  human  welfare.  The  private  desires 
have  respect  to  our  own  happiness.  Every  element  of  con- 
science has  thus  some  portion  of  happiness  for  its  object.  All 
the  affections  contribute  to  the  general  well-being,  although  it 
is  not  necessary,  nor  would  it  be  fit,  that  the  agent  should  he 
distracted  by  the  contemplation  of  that  vast  and  remote  object. 

To  sum  up  Mackintosh  : — 

I. — On  the  Standard,  he  pronounces  for  Utility,  with 
certain  modifications  and  explanations.  The  Utility  is  the 
remote  and  final  justification  of  all  actions  accounted  right, 
but  not  the  immediate  motive  in  the  mind  of  the  agent.  [It 
may  justly  be  feared,  that,  by  placing  so  much  stress  on  the 
delights  attendant  on  virtuous  action,  he  gives  an  opening  for 
the  admission  o^  seiithnent  into  the  consideration  of  Utility.] 

II. — In  the  Ps^-^chology  of  Ethics,  he  regards  the  Con- 
science as  a  derived  or  generated  faculty,  the  result  of  a 
series  of  associations.  He  assigns  the  primary  feelings  that 
enter  into  it,  and  traces  the  different  stages  of  the  growth. 
The  distinctive  feature  of  Conscience  is  its  close  relation  to 
the  Will. 

He  does  not  consider  the  problem  of  Liberty  and  Necessity. 

He  makes  Disinterested  Sentiment  a  secondary  or  derived 
feeling — a  stage  on  the  road  to  Conscience.  While  maintain- 
ing strongly  the  disinterested  character  of  the  sentiment,  he 
considers  that  it  may  be  fully  accounted  for  by  derivation 
from  our  primitive  self-regarding  feelings,  and  denies,  as 
against  Stewart  and  Brown,  that  this  gives  it  a  selfish  cha- 
racter. 

He  carries  the  process  of  associative  growth  a  step 
farther,  and  maintains  that  we  re-convert  disinterestedness 
into  a  lofty  delight—  the  delight  in  goodness  for  its  own  sake  ; 
to  attain  this  characteristic  is  the  highest  mark  of  a  virtuous 
character. 

III. — -His  Summum  Bonum,  or  Theory  of  Happiness,  is 
contained  in  his  much  iterated  doctrine  of  the  deliciousness 
of  virtuous  conduct,  by  which  he  proposes  to  effect  the  recon- 
ciliation of  our  own  good  with  the  good  of  others — prudence 
with  virtue.  Virtue  is  '  an  inward  fountain  of  pure  delight;' 
the  pleasure  of  benevolence,  '  if  it  could  become  lasting  and 
intense,  would  convert  the  heart  into  a  heaven  ;'  they  alone 
are  happy,  or  truly  virtuous,  that  do  not  need  the  motive  of  a 
regard  to  outward  consequences. 

His  chief  Ethical  precursor  in  this  vein  is  Shaftesbury ; 


PLEASUREABLE  AND   PAINFUL  SENSATIONS.  265 

but  lie  is  easily  able  to  produce  from  Theologians  abundant 
iterations  of  it. 

IV. — He  has  no  special  views  as  to  the  Moral  Code.  "With 
reference  to  the  inducements  to  virtue,  he  thinks  he  has  a 
powerful  lever  in  the  delights  that  the  virtuous  disposition 
confers  on  its  owner. 

V. — His  theory  of  the  connexion  of  Ethics  and  Politics  is 
stated  in  his  account  of  Bentham,  whom  he  charges  with 
making  morality  too  judicial. 

YI. — The  relations  of  Morality  to  Religion  are  a  matter  of 
frequent  and  special  consideration  in  M  .ckintosh. 

JAMES  MILL.         [1783-1836.] 

The  work  of  James  Mill,  entitled  the  'Analysis  of  the 
Human  Mind,'  is  distinguished,  in  the  first  place,  by  the 
studied  precision  of  its  definitions  of  all  leading  terms,  giving 
it  a  permanent  value  as  a  logical  discipline;  and  in  the  second 
place,  by  the  successful  carr3'ing  out  of  the  principle  of  Asso- 
ciation in  explaining  the  powers  of  the  mind.  The  author 
endeavours  to  show  that  the  moral  feelings  a.re  a  complex 
product  or  growth,  of  which  the  ultimate  constituents  are  our 
pleasurable  and  painful  sensations.  We  shall  present  a  brief 
abstract  of  the  course  of  his  exposition,  as  given  in  Chapters 
XVII.— XXIII.  of  the  Analysis. 

The  pleasurable  and  painful  sensations  being  assumed,  it 
is  important  to  take  notice  of  their  Causes,  both  immediate 
and  remote,  by  whose  means  they  can  be  secured  or  avoided. 
We  contract  a  habit  of  passing  rapidly  from  every  sensation 
to  its  procuring  cause ;  and,  as  in  the  typical  case  of  money, 
these  causes  are  apt  to  rank  higher  in  importance,  to  take  a 
greater  hold  on  the  mind,  than  the  sensations  themselves. 
The  mind  is  not  much  interested  in  attending  to  the  sensa- 
tion ;  that  can  provide  for  itself.  The  mind  is  deeply  interested 
in  attending  to  the  cause. 

The  author  next  (XIX.)  considers  the  Ideas  of  the  plea- 
surable sensations,  and  of  the  causes  of  them.  The  Idea  of 
a  pain  is  not  the  same  as  the  pain  ;  it  is  a  complex  state,  con- 
taining, no  doubt,  an  element  of  pain  ;  and  the  name  for  it  is 
Aversion.  So  the  name  for  an  idea  of  pleasure  is  Desire. 
Now,  these  states  extend  to  the  causes  of  pains  and  pleasures, 
though  in  other  respects  indifferent ;  we  have  an  aversion  for 
a  certain  drug,  but  there  is  in  this  a  transition  highly  illustra- 
tive of  the  force  of  the  associating  principle ;  our  real  aversion 
12 


266  ETHICAL   bYSTEMS — JAMES   MILL. 

being  to  a  bitter  sensation,  and  not  to  the  visible  appearance 
of  the  drug. 

Alluding  (XX.)  to  the  important  difference  between  past 
and  future  time  in  our  ideas  of  pleasure  and  pain,  he  defines 
Hope  and  Fear  as  the  contemplation  of  a  pleasurable  or  of  a 
painful  sensation,  as  future,  but  not  certain. 

When  the  immediate  causes  of  pleasurable  and  painful 
sensations  are  viewed  as  past  or  future,  we  have  a  new 
series  of  states.  In  the  past,  they  are  called  Love  and 
Hatred,  or  Aversion ;  in  the  future,  the  idea  of  a  pleasure,  as 
certain  in  its  arrival,  is  Joy — as  probable,  Hope ;  the  idea  of 
future  pain  (certain)  is  not  marked  otherwise  than  by  the 
names  Hatred,  Aversion,  Horror;  the  idea  of  the  pain  as 
probable  is  some  form  of  dread. 

The  remote  causes  of  our  pleasures  and  pains  are  more 
interesting  than  the  immediate  causes.  The  reason  is  their 
wide  command.  Thus,  Wealth,  Power,  and  Dignity  are  causes 
cf  a  great  range  of  pleasures :  Poverty,  Impotence,  and  Con- 
temptibility,  of  a  wide  range  of  pains.  For  one  thing,  the 
first  are  the  means  of  procuring  the  services  of  our  fellow- 
creatures  ;  this  fact  is  of  the  highest  consequence  in  morals,  as 
showing  how  deeply  our  happiness  is  entwined  with  the 
actions  of  other  beings.  The  author  illustrates  at  length  the 
influence  of  these  remote  and  comprehensive  agencies ;  and  as 
it  is  an  influence  entirely  the  result  of  association,  it  attests 
the  magnitude  of  that  power  of  the  mind. 

But  our  fellow -creatures  are  the  subjects  of  affections,  not 
merely  as  the  instrumentality  set  in  motion  by  Wealth,  Power, 
and  Dignity,  but  in  their  proper  personality.  This  leads  the 
author  to  the  consideration  of  the  pleasurable  affections  of 
Friendship,  Kindness,  Family,  Country,  Party,  Mankind.  He 
resolves  them  all  into  associations  with  our  primitive  plea- 
sures. Thus,  to  take  the  example  of  Kindness,  which  will 
show  how  he  deals  with  the  disinterested  affection  ; — The  idea 
of  a  man  enjoying  a  train  of  pleasures,  or  happiness,  is  felt  by 
everybody  to  be  a  pleasurable  idea ;  this  can  arise  from 
nothing  but  the  association  of  our  own  pleasures  with  the 
idea  of  his  pleasures.  The  pleasurable  association  compof-iod 
of  the  ideas  of  a  man  and  of  his  pleasures,  and  the  painful 
association  composed  of  the  idea  of  a  man  and  of  his  pains,  are 
both  Affections  included  under  one  name  Kindness  ;  although 
in  the  second  case  it  has  the  more  specific  nara^  Compassion. 

Under  the  other  heads,  the  author's  elucidation  is  fuller, 
but  his  principle  is  the  same. 


THE  SPECIES  OF  ACTIONS  ENTERING  INTO  MORALITY.     267 

He  next  goes  on  (XXII.)  to  Motives.  When  the  idea  of 
a  Pleasure  is  associated  with  an  action  of  our  own  as  the 
cause,  that  peculiar  state  of  mind  is  generated,  called  a 
motive.  The  idea  of  the  pleasure,  without  the  idea  of  an 
action  for  gaining  it,  does  not  amount  to  a  motive.  Every 
pleasure  may  become  a  motive,  but  every  motive  does  not  end 
in  action,  because  there  may  be  counter-motives;  and  the 
strength  attained  by  motives  depends  greatly  on  education 
The  facility  of  being  acted  on  by  motives  of  a  particular  kind 
is  a  Disposition.  We  have,  in  connexion  with  all  our  leading 
pleasures  and  pains,  names  indicating  their  motive  efficacy. 
Gluttony  is  both  motive  and  disposition;  so  Lust  and  Drunken- 
ness ;  with  the  added  sense  of  reprobation  in  all  the  three. 
Friendship  is  a  name  for  Affection,  Motive,  and  Disposition. 

In  Chapter  XXIII.,  the  author  makes  the  application  of  his 
principles  to  Ethics.  The  actions  emanating  from  ourselves, 
combined  with  those  emanating  from  our  fellow-creatures,  ex- 
ceed all  other  Causes  of  our  Pleasures  and  Pains.  Consequently 
such  actions  are  objects  of  intense  affections  or  regards. 

The  actions  whence  advantages  accrue  are  classed  under 
the  four  titles,  Prudence,  Fortitude,  Justice,  Benevolence. 
The  two  first — Prudence  and  Fortitude  [in  fact.  Prudence] — 
express  acts  useful  to  ourselves  in  the  first  instance,  to  others 
in  the  second  instance.  Justice  and  Benevolence  express  acts 
useful  to  others  in  the  first  instance,  to  ourselves  in  the  second 
instance.  We  have  two  sets  of  association  with  all  these  acts, 
one  set  with  them  as  our  own,  another  set  with  them  as  other 
people's.  With  Prudence  (and  Fortitude)  as  our  own  acts, 
we  associate  good  to  ourselves,  either  in  the  shape  of  positive 
pleasure,  or  as  warding  off  pain.  Thus  Labour  is  raised  to 
importance  by  numerous  associations  of  both  classes.  Farther, 
Prudence,  involving  the  foresight  of  a  train  of  consequences, 
requires  a  large  measure  of  knowledge  of  things  animate  and 
inanimate.  Courage  is  defined  by  the  author,  incurring  the 
chance  of  Evil,  that  is  danger,  for  the  sake  of  a  preponderant 
good ;  which,  too,  stands  in  need  of  knowledge.  Now,  when 
the  ideas  of  acts  of  Piudence  and  acts  of  Courage  have  been 
associated  sufficiently  often  with  beneficial  consequences,  they 
become  pleasurable  ideas,  or  Affections,  and  they  have  also, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  character  of  Motives.  In 
short,  there  is  nothing  in  prudential  conduct  that  may  not  be 
explained  by  a  series  of  associations,  grounded  on  our  plea- 
surable and  painful  sensations,  on  the  ideas  of  them,  and  on 
the  ideas  of  their  causes. 


ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — JAMES  MILL. 

The  real  difficulty  attaches  to  Justice  and  to  Beneficence. 

As  to  Justice.  Men,  in  society,  have  found  it  essential  fof 
mutual  benefit,  that  the  powers  of  Individuals  over  the  general 
causes  of  good  should  be  fixed  by  certain  rules,  that  is,  Laws, 
Acts  done  in  accordance  with  these  rules  are  Just  Acts ;  al- 
though, wben  duly  considered,  they  are  seen  to  include  the 
main  fact  of  beneficence,  the  good  of  others.  To  the  perform- 
ance of  a  certain  class  of  just  acts,  our  Fellow- creatures  annex 
penalties  ;  these,  therefore,  are  determine -1  partly  by  Prudence  ; 
others  remain  to  be  performed  voluntarily,  and  for  them  the 
motive  is  Beneficenco. 

What  then  is  the  source  of  the  motives  towards  Bene- 
ficence ?  How  do  the  ideas  of  acts,  having  the  good  of  our 
fellows  for  their  end,  become  Affections  and  Motives  ?  In  the 
first  place,  we  have  associations  of  pleasure  with  all  the 
pleasurable  feelings  of  fellow-creatures,  and  hence,  with  such 
acts  of  ours  as  yield  them  pleasure.  In  the  second  place, 
those  are  the  acts  for  procuring  to  ourselves  the  favourable 
Disposition  of  our  Fellow-men,  so  that  we  have  farther  asso- 
ciations of  the  pleasures  flowing  from  such  favourable  dispo- 
sitions. Thus,  by  the  union  of  two  sets  of  influences — two 
streams  of  association — the  Idea  of  our  beneficent  acts  becomes 
a  pleasurable  idea,  that  is,  an  Affection,  and,  being  connected 
with  actions  of  ours,  is  also  a  Motive.  Such  is  the  genesis  of 
Beneficent  or  Disinterested  impulses. 

We  have  next  a  class  of  associations  wnth  other  men's 
performance  of  the  several  virtues.  The  Prudence  and  the 
Fortitude  of  others  are  directly  beneficial  to  them,  and  in- 
directly beneficial  to  us ;  and  with  both  these  consequences 
we  have  necessarily  agreeable  associations.  The  Justice  and 
the  Beneficence  of  other  men  are  so  directly  beneficial  to  the 
objects  of  them,  that  it  is  impossible  for  us  not  to  have  plea- 
surable associations  with  acts  of  Justice  and  Beneficence,  first 
as  concerns  ourselves  in  particular,  and  next  as  concerns  the 
acts  generally.  Hence,  therefore,  the  rise  of  Affections  and 
Motives  in  favour  of  these  two  virtues.  As  there  is  nothing 
so  deeply  interesting  to  me  as  that  the  acts  of  men,  regarding 
myself  immediately,  should  be  acts  of  Justice  and  Beneficence, 
and  the  acts  regarding  themselves  immediately,  acts  of  Pru- 
dence and  Fortitude ;  it  follows  that  I  have  an  interest  in  all 
such  acts  of  my  own  as  operate  to  cause  those  acts  in  others. 
By  similar  acts  of  our  own,  by  the  manifestation  of  dispositions 
to  perform  those  acts,  we  obtain  their  reciprocal  performance 
by  others.    There  is  thus  a  highly  complex,  concurring  stimulus 


SUPPORTS  TO   BENEFICENCE.  269 

to  acts  of  virtue, — a  large  aggregate  of  influences  of  association, 
the  power  at  bottom  being  still  our  own  pleasurable  and  pain- 
ful sensations.  We  must  add  the  ascription  of  Praise,  an 
influence  remarkable  for  its  wide  propagation  and  great  efii- 
cacj  over  men's  minds,  and  no  less  remarkable  as  a  proof  of 
the  range  of  the  associating  principle,  especially  in  its  character 
of  Fame,  which,  in  the  case  of  future  fame,  is  a  purely  ideal 
or  associated  delight.  Equally,  if  not  more,  striking  are  the 
illustrations  from  Dispraise.  The  associations  of  Disgrace, 
even  when  not  suflicieut  to  restrain  the  performance  of  acts 
abhorred  by  mankind,  are  able  to  produce  the  horrors  of 
Remorse,  the  mos^.  intense  of  human  sufferings.  The  love  of 
praise  leads  by  one  step  to  the  love  of  Praiseworthiness ;  the 
dread  of  blame,  to  the  dread  of  Blameworthiness. 

Of  these  various  Motives,  the  most  constant  in  operation, 
and  the  most  in  use  in  moral  training,  are  Praise  and  Blame. 
It  is  the  sensibility  to  Praise  and  Blame — the  joyful  feelings 
associated  with  the  one,  and  the  dread  associated  with  the 
other — that  gives  effect  to  Popolar  Opinion,  or  the  Popular 
Sanction,  and,  with  reference  to  men  generally,  the  Moral 
Sanction. 

The  other  motives  to  virtue,  namely,  the  association  of  our 
own  acts  of  Justice  and  Beneficence,  as  cause,  with  other 
men's  as  eff'ects,  are  subject  to  strong  counteraction,  for  we 
can  rarely  perform  such  acts  without  sacrifice  to  ourselves. 
Still,  there  is  in  all  men  a  certain  surplus  of  motive  from  this 
cause,  just  as  there  is  a  surplus  from  the  association  of  acts  of 
ours,  hostile  to  other  men,  with  a  return  of  hostility  on  their 
part. 

The  best  names  for  the  aggregate  Aff'ection,  Motive,  and 
Disposition  in  this  important  region  of  conduct,  are  Moral 
Approhation  and  Disapprobation.  The  terms  Moral  Sense, 
Sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,  Love  of  Virtue  and  Hatred  of 
Vice,  are  not  equally  appropriate.  Virtue  and  Morality  arc 
other  synonyms. 

In  the  work  entitled,  'A  Fragment  on  Mackintosh,*  there 
are  afforded  farther  illustrations  of  the  author's  derivation  of 
the  Moral  Sentiment,  together  with  an  exposition  and  defence 
of  Utility  as  the  standard,  in  which  his  views  are  substantially  at 
one  with  Bentham.    Two  or  three  references  will  be  sufficient. 

In  the  statement  of  the  questions  in  dispute  in  Morals, 
he  objects  to  the  words  '  test'  and  '  criterion,'  as  expressing 
the  standard.  He  considers  it  a  m.istake  to  designate  as  a 
*  test'  what  is  the  thing  itself;  the  test  of  Morality  is  Morality 


270  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— JAMES   MILL. 

Properly,  tlie  thing  testing  is  one  thing  ;  the  thing  tested 
another  thing.  The  same  objection  would  apply  to  the  use  of 
the  word  Standard  ;  so  that  the  only  form  of  the  first  question 
of  Ethics  would  be,  What  is  morality  ?  What  does  it  con- 
sist in  ?  [The  remark  is  just,  but  somewhat  hypercritical. 
The  illustration  from  Chemical  testing  is  not  true  in  fact ; 
the  test  of  gold  is  some  essential  attribute  of  gold,  as  its  weight. 
And  when  we  wish  to  determine  as  to  a  certain  act,  whether 
it  is  a  moral  act,  we  compare  it  with  what  we  deem  the  essen- 
tial quality  of  moral  acts — Utility,  our  Moral  Instinct,  &c. — 
and  the  operation  is  not  improperly  called  testing  the  act. 
Since,  therefore,  whatever  we  agree  upon  as  the  essence  of 
morality,  must  be  practically  used  by  us  as  a  test,  criterion, 
or  standard,  there  cannot  be  much  harm  in  calling  this  essen- 
tial quality  the  standard,  although  the  designation  is  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  figurative.] 

The  author  has  some  additional  remarks  on  the  derivation 
of  our  Disinterested  feelings :  he  reiterates  the  position  ex- 
pressed in  the  '  Analysis,'  that  although  we  have  feelings 
directly  tending  to  the  good  of  others,  they  are  nevertheless 
the  growth  of  feelings  that  are  rooted  in  self.  That  feelings 
should  be  detached  from  their  original  root  is  a  well  known 
phenomenon  of  the  mind. 

His  illustrations  of  Utility  are  a  valuable  contribution  to 
the  defence  of  that  doctrine.  He  replies  to  most  of  the  com- 
mon objections.  Mackintosh  had  urged  that  the  reference  to 
Utility  would  be  made  a  dangerous  pretext  for  allowing  ex- 
ceptions to  common  rules.  Mill  expounds  at  length  (p.  246) 
the  formation  of  moral  rules,  and  retorts  that  there  are  rules 
expressly  formed  to  make  exceptions  to  other  rules,  as  jasdce 
before  generosity,  charity  begins  at  home,  &c. 

He  animadverts  with  great  severity  on  Mackintosh's  doc- 
trines, as  to  the  delight  of  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  and  the 
special  contact  of  moral  feelings  with  the  will.  Allowance 
being  made  for  the  great  diiFerence  in  the  way  that  the  two 
writers  express  themselves,  they  are  at  one  in  maintaining 
Utility  to  be  the  ultimate  standard,  and  in  regarding  Conscience 
as  a  derived  faculty  of  the  mind. 

The  author's  handling  of  Ethics  does  not  extend  beyond 
the  first  and  second  topics — the  Standard  and  the  Faculty. 
His  Standard  is  Utility.  The  Faculty  is  based  on  our  Plea- 
sures and  Pains,  with  which  there  are  multiplied  associations. 
Disinterested  Sentiment  is  a  real  fact,  but  has  its  origin  io 
our  own  proper  pleasures  and  pains. 


MORALITY   COMES   UNDER   LAW.  271 

Mill  considers  that  the  existing  moral  rules  are  all  based 
on  our  estimate,  correct  or  incorrect,  of  Utility. 

JOHN  AUSTIN.         [1790-1859.] 

Austin,  in  his  Lectures  on  '  The  Province  of  Jurispru- 
dence determined,'  has  discussed  the  leading  questions  of 
Ethics.     We  give  an  abstract  of  the  Ethical  part. 

Lecture  I.  Law,  in  its  largest  meaning,  and  omitting 
metaphorical  applications,  embraces  Laws  set  by  God  to  his 
creatures,  and  Laws  set  by  man  to  man.  Of  the  laws  set  by 
man  to  man,  some  are  established  by  political  superiors,  or  by 
persons  exercising  government  in  nations  or  political  societies. 
This  is  law  in  the  usual  sense  of  the  word,  forming  the  subject 
of  Jurisprudence.  The  author  terms  it  Positive  Law.  There 
is  another  class  of  laws  not  set  by  political  superiors  in  that 
capacity.  Yet  some  of  these  are  properly  termed  laws, 
although  others  are  only  so  by  a  close  analogy.  There  is  no 
name  for  the  laws  proper,  but  to  the  others  are  applied  such 
names  as  ''moral  rales,'  'the  'moral  law,'  ''general  ov  public 
opinion^''  '  the  law  of  honour  or  of  fashion.''  The  author  pro- 
poses for  these  laws  the  name  positive  morality.  The  laws  now 
enumerated  differ  in  many  important  respects,  but  agree  in 
this — that  all  of  them  are  set  hij  intelligent  and  rational  beings 
to  intelligent  and  rational  beings.  There  is  a  figurative  appli- 
cation of  the  word  '  law,'  to  the  uniformities  of  the  natural 
world,  through  which  the  field  of  jurisprudence  and  morals 
has  been  deluged  with  muddy  speculation. 

Laws  properly  so  called  are  commands.  A  command  is 
the  signification  of  a  desire  or  wish,  accompanied  with  the 
power  and  the  purpose  to  inflict  evil  if  that  desire  is  not  com- 
plied with.  The  person  so  desired  is  hound  or  obliged,  or 
placed  under  a  duti/,  to  obey.  Refusal  is  disobedience,  or 
violation  of  duty.  The  evil  to  be  inflicted  is  called  a  sanction, 
or  an  enforcement  of  obedience  ;  the  tevm.  2^unishment  expresses 
one  class  of  sanctions. 

The  term  sanction  is  improperly  applied  to  a  Reward. 
We  cannot  say  that  an  action  is  commanded,  or  that  obedience 
is  constrained  or  enforced  by  the  offer  of  a  reward.  Again, 
when  a  reward  is  offered,  a  right  and  not  an  obligation  is  cre- 
ated :  the  imperative  function  passes  to  the  party  receiving 
the  reward.  In  short,  it  is  only  by  conditional  evil,  that  duties 
are  sanctioned  or  enforced. 

The  correct  meaning  of  superior  and  inferior  is  determined 
by  command  and  obedience. 


272  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — AUSTIN. 

Lecture  II.  The  Divine  Laim  are  the  known  commands 
of  the  Deity,  enforced  bj  the  evils  that  we  may  suffer  here  or 
hereafter  for  breaking  thera.  Some  of  these  laws  are  revealed^ 
others  unrevealed,  Paley  and  others  have  proved  that  it  was 
not  the  purpose  of  Revelation  to  disclose  the  whole  of  our 
duties  ;  the  Light  of  Nature  is  an  additional  source.  But 
how  are  we  to  interpret  this  Light  of  Nature  ? 

The  various  hypotheses  for  resolving  this  question  may  be 
reduced  to  two :  ( 1 )  an  Innate  Sentiment,  called  a  Moral 
Sense,  Common  Sense,  Practical  Reason,  &c. ;  and  (2)  the 
Theory  of  Utility. 

The  author  avows  his  adherence  to  the  theory  of  Utility, 
which  he  connects  with  the  Divine  Benevolence  in  the  manner 
of  Benthara.  God  designs  the  happiness  of  sentient  beings. 
Some  actions  forward  that  purpose,  others  frustrate  it.  The 
first,  God  has  enjoined ;  the  second.  He  has  forbidden. 
Knowing,  therefore,  the  tendency  of  any  action,  we  know  the 
Divine  command  with  respect  to  it. 

The  tendency  of  an  action  is  all  its  consequences  near  and 
remote,  certain  and  probable,  direct  and  collateral.  A  petty 
theft,  or  the  evasion  of  a  trifling  tax,  may  be  insignificant,  or 
even  good,  in  the  direct  and  immediate  consequences ;  but 
before  the  full  tendency  can  be  weighed,  we  must  resolve  the 
question : — What  would  be  the  probable  effect  on  the  general 
happiness  or  good,  if  similar  acts,  or  omissions,  were  general 
or  frequent  ? 

When  the  theory  of  Utility  is  correctly  stated,  the  current 
objections  are  easily  refuted.  As  viewed  by  the  author, 
Utility  is  not  the  fountaiyi  or  source  of  our  duties ;  this  must 
be  commands  and  sanctions.  But  it  is  the  index  of  the  will 
of  the  law-giver,  who  is  presumed  to  have  for  his  chief  end 
the  happiness  or  good  of  mankind. 

The  most  specious  objection  to  Utility  is  the  supposed 
necessity  of  going  through  a  calculation  of  the  consequences 
of  every  act  that  we  have  to  perform,  an  operation  often 
beyond  our  power,  and  likely  to  be  abused  to  forward  our 
private  wishes.  To  this,  the  author  replies  first,  that  sup- 
posing utility  our  only  index,  we  must  make  the  best  of  it. 
Of  course,  if  we  were  endowed  with  a  moral  sense,  a  special 
organ  for  ascertaining  our  duties,  the  attempt  to  displace 
that  invincible  consciousness,  and  to  thrust  the  principle  of 
utility  into  the  vacant  seat,  would  be  impossible  and  absurd. 

According  to  the  theory  of  Utility,  our  conduct  would 
conform  to  rules  inferred  from  the  tendencies  of  actions,  but 


OBJECTIONS  TO   UTILITY  ANSWERED.  273 

would  not  be  determined  bj  a  direc-  resort  to  tKe  principle  of 
general  utility.  Utility  would  be  the  ultimate,  not  the  im- 
mediate test.  To  preface  each  act  or  forbearance  by  a  con- 
jecture and  comparison  of  con^Jequences  were  both  superfluous 
and  mischievous  : — superflaous,  inasmuch  as  the  result  is 
already  embodied  in  a  known  rule  ;  and  mischievous,  inas- 
much as  the  process,  if  performed  on  the  spur  of  the  occasion, 
would  probably  be  faulty. 

With  the  rules  are  associated  sentiments,  the  result  of  the 
Divine,  or  other,  command  to  obey  the  rules.  It  is  a  gross 
and  flagrant  error  to  talk  of  substituting  calculation  for  senti- 
ment; this  is  to  oppose  the  rudder  to  the  sail.  Sentiment 
without  calculation  were  capricious ;  calculation  without 
sentiment  is  inert. 

There  are  cases  where  the  specific  consequences  of  an 
action  are  so  momentous  as  to  overbear  the  rule ;  for  ex- 
ample, resistance  to  a  bad  government,  which  the  author 
calls  an  anomalous  question,  to  be  tried  not  by  the  rule,  but 
by  a  direct  resort  to  the  ultimate  or  presiding  principle,  and 
by  a  separate  calculation  of  good  and  evil.  Such  was  the 
political  emergency  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  the  American 
revolution.  It  would  have  been  well,  the  author  thinks,  if 
utility  had  been  the  sole  guide  in  both  cases. 

There  is  a  second  objection  to  Utility,  more  perplexing 
to  deal  with.  How  can  we  know  fully  and  correctly  all  the 
consequences  of  actions  ?  Tlio  answer  is  that  Ethics,  as  a 
science  of  observation  and  induction,  has  been  formed,  through 
a  long  succession  of  ages,  by  many  and  separate  contributions 
from  many  and  separate  discoverers.  Like  all  other  sciences, 
it  is  progressive,  although  unfortunately,  subject  to  special 
drawbacks.  The  men  that  have  enquired,  or  affected  to 
enquire,  into  Ethics,  have  rarely  been  impartial ;  they  have 
laboured  under  prejudices  or  sinister  interests  ;  and  have  been 
the  advocates  of  foregone  conclusions.  There  is  not  on  this 
subject  a  concurrence  or  agreement  of  numerous  and  impartial 
enquirers.  Indeed,  many  of  the  legal  and  moral  rules  of  the 
most  civilized  communities  arose  in  the  infancy  of  the  human 
mind,  partly  from  caprices  of  the  fancy  (nearly  omnipotent 
with  barbarians),  and  partly  from  an  imperfect  apprehension 
of  general  utility,  the  result  of  a  narrow  experience.  Thus 
the  diffusion  and  the  advancement  of  ethical  truth  encounter 
great  and  peculiar  obstacles,  only  to  be  removed  by  a  better 
general  education  extended  to  the  mass  of  the  people.  It  is 
desirable  that  the  community  should  be  indoctrinated  with 


274  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — AUSTIN. 

Bound  views  of  property,  and  with  the  dependence  of  wealth 
upon  the  true  principle  of  population,  discovered  by  Malthus, 
all  which  they  are  competent  to  understand. 

The  author  refers  to  Paley's  Moral  Philosophy  as  an 
example  of  the  perverting  tendency  of  narrow  and  domineering 
interests  in  the  domain  of  ethics.  With  many  colnmendable 
points,  there  is,  in  that  work,  much  ignoble  truckling  to  the 
dominant  and  influential  few,  and  a  deal  of  shabby  sophistry 
in  defending  abuses  that  the  few  were  interested  in  upholding. 

AiS  a  farther  answer  to  the  second  objection,  he  remarks, 
that  it  applies  to  every  theory  of  ethics  that  supposes  our 
duties  to  be  set  by  the  Deity.  Christianity  itself  is  defective, 
considered  as  a  system  of  rules  for  the  guidance  of  human 
conduct. 

He  then  turns  to  the  alternative  of  a  Moral  Sense.  This 
involves  two  assumptions. 

First,  Certain  sentiments,  or  feelings  of  approbation  or 
disapprobation,  accompany  our  conceptions  of  certain  human 
actions.  These  feelings  are  neither  the  result  of  our  reflection 
on  the  tendencies  of  actions,  nor  the  result  of  education ;  the 
sentiments  would  follow  the  conception,  although  we  had 
neither  adverted  to  the  good  or  evil  tendency  of  the  actions, 
nor  become  aware  of  the  opinions  of  others  regarding  them. 
This  theory  denies  that  the  sentiments  known  to  exist  can  bo 
produced  by  education.  We  approve  and  disapprove  of 
actions  we  know  not  why. 

The  author  adapts  Paley's  supposition  of  the  savage,  in 
order  to  express  strongly  what  the  moral  sense  implies.  But 
we  will  confine  ourselves  to  his  reasonings.  Is  there,  he  asks, 
any  evidence  of  our  being  gifted  with  such  feelings  ?  The 
very  putting  of  such  a  question  would  seem,  a  sufficient  proof 
that  we  are  not  so  endowed.  There  ought  to  be  no  more 
doubt  about  them,  than  about  hunger  or  thirst. 

It  is  alleged  in  their  favour  that  our  judgments  of  rectitude 
and  depravity  are  immediate  and  voluntary.  The  reply  is 
that  sentiments  begotten  by  association  are  no  less  prompt  and 
involuntary  than  our  instincts.  Our  response  to  a  money 
gain,  or  a  money  loss,  is  as  prompt  as  our  compliance  with  the 
primitive  appetites  of  the  system.  We  begin  by  loving  know- 
ledge as  a  means  to  ends ;  but,  in  time,  the  end  is  inseparably 
associated  with  the  instrument.  So  a  moral  sentiment 
dictated  by  utility,  if  often  exercised,  would  be  rapid  and 
direct  in  its  operation. 

It  is  farther  alleged,  as  a  proof  of  the  innate  character  of 


PKEVAILING  MISCONCEPTIONS  EEGAKDING  UTILITY.       275 

the  moral  judgments,  that  the  moral  sentiments  of  all  men  are 
precisely  alike.  The  argument  may  be  put  thus  : — IS'o  opinion 
or  sentiment  resulting  from  observation  and  induction  is  held 
or  felt  by  all  mankind :  Observation  and  induction,  as  applied 
to  the  same  subject,  lead  dijQTerent  men  to  different  conclusions. 
Now,  the  judgments  passed  internally  on  the  rectitude  or 
pravity  of  actions,  or  the  moral  sentiments,  are  precisely  alike 
with  all  men.  Therefore,  our  moral  sentiments  are  not  the 
result  of  our  inductions  of  the  tendencies  of  actions  ;  nor  were 
they  derived  from  others,  and  impressed  by  authority  and 
example.  Consequently,  the  moral  sentiments  are  instinctive, 
or  ultimate  and  inscrutable  facts. 

To  refute  such  an  argument  is  superfluous  ;  it  is  based  on 
a  groundless  assertion.  The  moral  sentiments  of  men  have 
differed  to  infinity.  With  regard  to  a  few  classes  of  actions,  the 
moral  judgments  of  most,  though  not  of  all,  men  have  been 
alike.  ^Yith  regard  to  others,  they  have  differed,  through  every 
shade  or  degree,  from  slight  diversity  to  direct  opposition. 

But  this  is  exactly  what  we  should  expect  on  the  principle 
of  utility.  With  regard  to  some  actions,  the  dictates  of  utility 
are  the  same  at  all  times  and  places,  and  are  so  obvious  as 
hardly  to  admit  of  mistake  or  doubt  On  the  other  hand, 
men's  positions  in  different  ages  and  nations  are  in  many 
respects  widely  different ;  so  that  wbat  was  useful  there  and 
then  is  useless  or  pernicious  here  and  now.  Moreover,  since 
human  tastes  are  various,  and  human  reason  is  fallible,  men's 
moral  sentiments  often  widely  differ  in  the  same  positions. 

He  next  alludes  to  some  prevaihng  misconceptions  in 
regard  to  utility.  One  is  the  confusion  of  the  test  with  the 
motive.  The  general  good  is  the  test,  or  rather  the  index  to 
the  ultimate  measure  or  test,  the  Divine  commands ;  but  it  is 
not  in  all,  or  even  in  most  cases,  the  motive  or  inducement. 

The  principle  of  utility  does  not  demand  that  we  shall 
always  or  habitually  attend  to  the  general  good;  although  it 
does  demand  that  we  shall  not  pursue  our  own  particular 
good  by  means  that  are  inconsistent  with  that  paramount 
object.  It  permits  the  pursuit  of  our  own  pleasures  as  plea- 
sure. Even  as  regards  the  good  of  others,  it  commonly  re- 
quires us  to  be  governed  by  partial,  rather  than  by  general 
benevolence  ;  by  the  narrower  circle  of  family  and  friends 
rather  than  by  the  larger  humanity  that  embraces  mankind. 
It  requires  us  to  act  where  we  act  ivitli  the  utmost  effect ;  that 
is,  within  the  sphere  best  known  to  us.  The  limitations  to 
this  principle,  the  adjustment  of  the  selfish  to  the  social  mo- 


276  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— AUSTIN. 

tives,  of  partial  sympathy  to  general  benevolence,  belong  tO 
the  detail  of  ethics. 

The  second  misconception  of  Utility  is  to  confound  it  with 
a  particular  hypothesis  concerning  the  Origin  of  Berxevolence, 
commonly  styled  the  selfish  system.  Hartley  and  some  others 
having  affirmed  that  benevolence  is  not  an  ultimate  fact,  but 
an  emanation  from  self-love,  through  the  association  of  ideas, 
it  has  been  fancied  that  these  writers  dispute  the  existence  of 
disinterested  benevolence  or  sympathy.  Now,  th'S  selfish 
system,  in  its  literal  import,  is  flatly  inconsistent  with  obvious 
facts,  but  this  is  not  the  system  contended  for  by  the  writers  in 
question.  Still,  this  distortion  has  been  laid  hold  oi  by  the 
opponents  of  utility,  and  maintained  to  be  a  necessary  part  of 
that  system  ;  hence  the  supporters  of  utility  are  styled  '  selfish, 
sordid,  and  cold-blooded  calculators.'  But,  as  already  said, 
the  theory  of  utility  is  not  a  theory  of  motives ;  it  holds  equally 
good  whether  benevolence  be  what  it  is  called,  or  merely  a 
provident  regard  to  self :  whether  it  be  a  simple  fact,  or  en- 
gendered by  association  on  self-regard.  Paley  mixed  up  Utility 
with  self- regarding  mo/ives  ;  but  his  theory  of  these  is  miwrably 
shallow  and  defective,  and  amounted  to  a  denial  of  genuine 
benevolence  or  sympathy. 

Austin's  Fifth  Lecture  is  devoted  to  a  full  elucidation  of 
the  meanings  of  Law.  He  had,  at  the  outset,  made  the  dis- 
tinction between  Laws  properly  so  called,  and  Laws  impro- 
perly so  called.  Of  the  second  class,  some  are  closely  allied 
to  Laws  proper,  possessing  in  fict  their  main  or  essential 
attributes  ;  others  are  laws  only  by  metaphor.  Laws  proper, 
and  those  closely  allied  to  them  among  laws  proper,  are 
divisible  into  three  classes.  The  first  are  the  Divine  Law  or 
Laws.  The  secjond  is  named  Positive  Law  or  Positive  Laws  ; 
and  corresponds  with  Legislation.  The  third  he  calls  Positive 
Morality,  or  positive  moral  rules ;  it  is  the  same  as  Morals  or 
Ethics. 

Reverting  to  the  definition  of  Law,  he  gives  the  following 
three  essentials  : — 1.  Every  law  is  a  command,  and  emanates 
from  a  determinate  source  or  another.  2.  Every  sanction  is 
an  eventual  evil  annexed  to  a  command.  3.  Every  duty  sup- 
poses a  com?nand  whereby  it  is  created.  Now,  tried  by  these 
tests,  the  laws  of  God  are  laws  proper ;  so  are  positive  laws, 
by  which  are  meant  laws  established  by  monarchs  as  supreme 
political  superiors,  by  subordinate  political  superiors,  and  by 
subjects,  as  private  persons,  in  pursuance  of  legal  rights. 

But  as  regards  Positive  Morality,  or  moral  rules,  some 


MO"RAL  ETJLT^JS   AS  LAWS.  277 

have  BO  far  the  essentials  of  an  imperative  law  or  rale,  that  they 
are  rules  set  by  men  to  men.  Bat  they  are  not  set  by  men  as 
political  superiors,  nor  by  men  as  private  persons,  in  pursu- 
ance of  legal  rights ;  in  this  respect  they  differ  from  positive 
laws,  they  are  not  clothed  with  legal  sanctions. 

The  most  important;  department  of  positive  morality 
includes  the  laws  set  or  imposed  hij  general  opinion^  as  for  ex- 
ample the  laws  of  honour,  and  of  fashion.  Now  these  are  not 
laws  in  the  strict  meaning  of  the  word,  because  the  authors 
are  an  indeterniinate  or  uncertain  aggregate  of  persons.  Still, 
they  have  the  closest  alliance  with  Laws  proper,  seeing  that 
being  armed  with  a  sanction,  they  impose  a  duty.  The  per- 
sons obnoxious  to  the  sanction  generally  do  or  forbear  the 
acts  enjoined  or  forbidden  ;  which  is  all  that  can  happen  under 
the  highest  type  of  law. 

The  author  then  refers  to  Locke's  division  of  law,  which, 
although  faulty  in  the  analysis,  aiid  inaptly  expressed,  tallies 
in  the  main  with  what  he  has  laid  down. 

Of  Metaphorical  or  figurativ^e  laws,  the  most  usual  is  that 
suggested  by  the  fact  of  uriifonnltij^  which  is  one  of  the  ordi- 
nary consequences  of  a  law  proper.  Such  are  the  laws  of 
nature,  or  the  uniformities  of  co-existence  and  succession  in 
natural  phenomena. 

Another  metaphorical  extension  is  to  a  model  or  pattern, 
because  a  law  presents  something  as  a  guide  to  human  con- 
duct. In  this  sense,  a  man  may  set  a  law  to  himself,  meaning 
a  plan  or  model,  and  not  a  law  in  the  proper  sense  of  a  com- 
mand. So  a  rule  of  art  is  devoid  of  a  sanction,  and  therefore 
of  the  idea  of  duty. 

A  confusion  of  ideas  also  exists  as  to  the  meaning  of  a 
sanction.  Bentham  styles  the  evils  arising  in  the  course  of 
nature  physical  sanctions,  as  if  the  omission  to  guard  against 
fire  were  a  sin  or  an  immorality,  punished  by  the  destruction 
of  one's  house.  But  aUhough  this  is  an  evil  happening  to  a 
rational  being,  and  brought  on  by  a  voluntary  act  or  omission, 
it  is  not  the  result  of  a  law  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term. 
What  is  produced  nataralli/,  says  Locke,  is  produced  without 
the  intervention  of  a  law. 

Austin  is  thus  seen  to  be  one  of  the  most  strenuous  advo- 
cates of  Utility  as  the  Standard,  and  is  distinguished  for  the 
lucidity  of  his  exposition,  and  the  force  of  his  replies  to  the 
objections  made  against  it. 

He  is  also  the  best  expounder  of  the  relationship  of 
Morality  to  Law. 


278  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 

WILLIAM  WHEWELL.         [1794-1866.) 

Dr.  Whewell's  chief  Ethical  works  are,  '  Elements  of 
Morality,  including  Polity,'  and  *  Lectures  on  the  History  of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  England.' 

We  may  refer  for  his  views  to  either  work.  The  follow- 
ing abstract  is  taken  from  the  latest  (4th)  edition  of  his 
Elements  (1864). 

In  the  Preface  he  indicates  the  general  scope  of  the  work. 
Morality  has  its  root  in  the  Common  Nature  of  Man  ;  a 
scheme  of  Morality  must  conform  to  the  Common  Serise  of 
mankind,  in  so  far  as  that  is  consistent  with  itself.  Now, 
this  Common  Sense  of  Mankind  has  in  every  age  led  to  two 
seemingly  opposite  schemes  of  Morality,  the  one  making 
Virtue,  and  the  other  making  Fleasure,  the  rule  of  action. 
On  the  one  side,  men  ui'ge  the  claims  of  Rectitude,  Duty, 
Conscience,  the  Moral  Faculty ;  on  the  other,  they  declare 
Utility,  Expediency,  Interest,  Enjoyment,  to  be  the  proper 
guides. 

Both  systems  are  liable  to  objections.  Against  the  scheme 
of  Pleasure,  it  is  urged  that  we  never,  in  fact,  identify  virtue 
as  merely  useful.  Against  the  scheme  of  Virtue,  it  is  main- 
tained that  virtue  is  a  matter  of  opinion,  and  that  Conscience 
varies  in  different  ages,  countries,  and  persons.  It  is  necessary 
that  a  scheme  of  Morality  should  surmount  both  classes  of 
objections ;  and  the  author  therefore  attempts  a  reconciliation 
of  the  two  opposing  theories. 

He  prepares  the  way  by  asking,  whether  there  are  any 
actions,  or  qualities  of  actions,  universally  approved  ;  and 
whether  there  are  any  moral  rules  accepted  by  the  Common 
Sense  of  mankind  as  universally  valid  ?  The  reply  is  that 
there  are  such,  as,  for  example,  the  virtues  termed  Veracity, 
Justice,  Benevolence.  He  does  not  enquire  why  these  are 
approved  ;  he  accepts  the  fact  of  the  approval,  and  considers 
that  here  we  have  the  basis  of  a  Moral  System,  not  liable  to 
either  of  the  opposing  objections  above  recited. 

He  supposes,  however,  that  the  alleged  agreement  may  be 
challenged, /rsf,  as  not  existing ;  and  next,  as  insufficient  to 
reason  from. 

1.  It  may  be  maintained  that  the  excellence  of  the  three 
virtues  named  is  not  universally  assented  to  ;  departures  from 
them  being  allowed  both  in  practice  and  in  theory.  The 
answer  is,  that  the  principles  may  be  admitted,  although  the 
interpretation  varies.     Men  allow  Fidelity  and  Kindness  to 


THERE  ARE  ACTIONS  UNIVERSALLY  APPROVED.  279 

be  virtues,  although  in  an  early  stage  of  moral  progress  they 
do  not  make  the  application  beyond  their  own  friends  ;  it  is 
only  at  an  advanced  stage  that  they  include  enemies.  The 
Romans  at  first  held  stranger  and  enemy  to  be  synonymous ; 
but  afterwards  they  applauded  the  sentiment  of  the  poet, 
homo  sum,  &c.  Moral  principles  must  be  what  we  approve 
of,  when  we  speak  in  the  name  of  the  whole  human  species. 

2.  It  may  be  said  that  such  principles  are  too  vague  and 
loose  to  reason  from.  A  verbal  agreement  in  employing  the 
terms  truthful,  just,  humane,  does  nob  prove  a  real  agreement 
as  to  the  actions ;  and  the  particulars  must  be  held  as 
explaining  the  generalities. 

The  author  holds  this  objection  to  be  erroneous ;  and  the 
scheme  of  his  work  is  intended  to  meet  it.  He  proceeds  as 
follows : — 

He  allows  that  we  must  fix  what  is  meant  by  right,  which 
carries  with  it  the  meaning  of  Virtue  and  of  Duty.  Now,  in 
saying  an  action  is  right,  there  is  this  idea  conveyed,  namely, 
that  we  render  such  a  reason  for  it,  as  shall  be  paramount 
to  all  other  considerations.  Right  must  be  the  Supreme  Rule. 
How  then  are  we  to  arrive  at  this  rule  ? 

The  supreme  rule  is  the  authority  over  all  the  faculties 
and  impulses ;  and  is  made  up  of  the  partial  rules  according 
to  the  separate  faculties,  powers,  and  impulses.  We  are  to 
look,  in  the  first  instance,  to  the  several  faculties  or  depart- 
ments of  the  mind ;  for,  in  connexion  with  each  of  these,  we 
shall  find  an  irresistible  propriety  inherent  in  the  very  nature 
of  the  faculty. 

For  example,  man  lives  in  the  society  of  fellow-men ;  his 
actions  derive  their  meaning  from  this  position.  He  has  the 
faculty  of  Speech,  whereby  his  actions  are  connected  with 
other  men.  Now,  as  man  is  under  a  supreme  moral  rule, 
[this  the  author  appears  to  assume  in  the  very  act  of  proving 
it],  there  must  be  a  rule  of  right  as  regards  the  use  of  Speech  ; 
which  rule  can  be  no  other  than  truth  and  falsehood.  In 
other  words,  veracity  is  a  virtue. 

Again,  man,  as  a  social  being,  has  to  divide  with  others 
the  possession  of  the  world,  in  other  words,  to  possess  Pro- 
perty ;  whence  there  must  be  a  rule  of  Property,  that  is, 
each  man  is  to  have  his  own.  Whence  Justice  is  seen  to  be 
a  virtue. 

The  author  thinks  himself  at  one  with  the  common  notions 
of  mankind  in  pronouncing  that  the  Faculty  of  Speech,  the 
Desire  of  Possessions,  and  the  Affections,  are  properly  rega- 


280  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 

lated,  not  by  any  extraneous  purposes  or  ends  to  be  served 
by  them,  but  by  Veracity,  Justice,  and  Humanity,  respec- 
tively. 

He  explains  bis  position  farther,  by  professing  to  follow 
Butler  in  the  doctrine  that,  through  the  mere  contemplation 
of  our  human  faculties  and  springs  of  action,  we  can  discern 
certain  relations  which  must  exist  among  them  by  the  neces- 
sity of  man's  moral  being.  Butler  maintains  that,  by  merely 
comparing  appetite  with  conscience  as  springs  of  action,  we 
Bee  conscience  is  superior  and  ought  to  rule ;  and  Whewell 
conceives  this  to  be  self-evident,  and  expresses  it  by  stating 
that  tlie  Lower  parts  of  our  nature  are  to  he  governed  by  the 
Higher.  Men  being  considered  as  social  beings,  capable  of 
mutual  understanding  through  speech,  it  is  self-evident  that 
their  rule  must  include  veracity.  In  like  manner,  it  is  self- 
evident  from  the  same  consideration  of  social  relationship, 
that  each  man  should  abstain  from  violence  and  anger  to- 
wards others,  that  is,  love  his  fellow-men. 

Remarking  on  the  plea  of  the  utilitarian,  that  truth  may 
be  justified  by  the  intolerable  consequences  of  its  habitual 
violation,  he  urges  that  this  is  no  reason  against  its  being 
intuitively  perceived:  just  as  the  axioms  of  geometry,  although 
intuitively  felt,  are  confi.rmed  by  showing  the  incongruities 
following  on  their  denial.  He  repeats  the  common  allegation 
in  favour  of  a  priori  principles  generally,  that  no  consideration 
of  evil  consequences  would  give  the  sense  of  universality  of 
obligation  attaching  to  the  fundamental  moral  maxims ;  and 
endeavours  to  show  that  his  favourite  antithesis  of  Idea  and 
J'ac^  conciliates  the  internal  essence  and  the  external  conditions 
of  morality.  The  Idea  is  invariable  and  universal ;  the  Fact, 
or  outward  circumstances,  may  vary  historically  and  geo- 
graphically. Morality  must  in  some  measure  be  dependent 
on  Law,  but  yet  there  is  an  Idea  of  Justice  above  law. 

It  very  naturally  occurred  to  many  readers  of  Whewell's 
scheme,  that  in  so  far  as  he  endeavours  to  give  any  reason  for 
the  foundations  of  morality,  he  runs  in  a  vicious  circle.  He 
proposes  to  establish  his  supreme  universal  rule,  by  showing 
it  to  be  only  a  samming  up  of  certain  rules  swaying  the  several 
portions  or  departments  of  our  nature — Veracity,  Justice,  &c., 
while,  in  considering  the  obligation  of  these  rules,  he  assumes 
that  man  is  a  moral  being,  which  is  another  way  of  saying 
that  he  is  to  be  under  a  supreme  moral  rule.  In  his  latest 
edition,  the  author  has  replied  to  this  charge,  but  so  briefly 
as  to  cast  no  new  light  on  his  position.     He  only  repeats  that 


THE   SPRINGS   OF   ACTIOX  281 

the  Supreme  rule  of  Human  Action  is  given  by  the  constitn- 
tion  and  conditions  of  human  nature.  His  ethical  principle 
may  be  not  unfairly  expressed  by  saying,  that  he  recognizes  a 
certain  intrinsic  fitness  in  exercising  the  organ  of  speech 
according  to  its  social  uses,  that  is,  in  promoting  a  right 
understanding  among  men  ;  and  so  with  Justice,  as  the  fitness 
of  property,  and  Humanity,  as  the  fitness  of  the  Affections. 
This  fitness  is  intuitively  felt.  Human  happiness  is  admitted 
to  be  a  consequence  of  these  rules ;  but  happiness  is  not  a 
sufficient  end  in  itself;  morality  is  also  an  end  in  itself.  Human 
happiness  is  not  to  be  conceived  or  admitted,  except  as  con- 
taining a  moral  element;  in  addition  to  the  direct  gratifications 
of  human  life,  we  must  include  the  delight  of  virtue.  [How 
men  can  be  compelled  to  postpone  their  pleasurable  sense  of 
the  good  things  of  life,  till  they  have  contracted  a  delight  ia 
virtue  for  its  own  sake,  the  author  does  not  say.  It  has  been 
the  great  object  of  moralists  in  all  ages,  to  impart  by  education 
such  a  state  of  mind  as  to  spoil  the  common  gratifications, 
if  they  are  viciously  procured ;  the  comparatively  little  suc- 
cess of  the  endeavour,  shows  that  nature  has  done  little  to 
favour  it.j 

The  foregoing  is  an  abstract  of  the  Introduction  to  the 
4th  Edition  of  the  Elements  of  Morality.  We  shall  present 
the  anther's  views  respecting  the  other  questions  of  Morality 
in  the  form  of  the  usual  summary. 

I. — As  regards  the  Standard,  enough  has  been  already 
indicated. 

II. — The  Psychology  of  the  Moral  Faculty  is  given  by 
Whewell  as  part  of  a  classification  of  our  Active  Powers,  or, 
as  he  calls  them,  Springs  of  Action.  These  are :  I. — The 
Ai^petites  or  Bodily  Desires,  as  Hunger  and  Thirst,  and  the 
desires  of  whatever  things  have  been  found  to  gratify  the 
senses.  II. — The  Affections^  which  are  directed  to  persons ; 
they  fall  under  the  two  heads  Love  and  Anger.  III. — The 
Mental  Desires,  having  for  their  objects  certain  abstractions. 
They  are  the  desire  of  Safety,  including  Security  and  Liberty  ; 
the  desire  of  Having,  or  Property ;  the  desire  of  Society  in 
all  its  forms — Family  Society  and  Civil  Society,  under  which 
is  included  the  need  of  Mutual  Understanding  ;  the  desire  of 
Superiority ;  and  the  Desire  of  Knowledge.  IV. — The  Moral 
Sentiments.  Our  judgment  of  actions  as  right  or  wrong  is 
accompanied  b}^  certain  ASectious  or  Sentiments,  named 
Approbation  and  Disapprobation,  Indignation  and  Esteem; 
these  are  the  Moral  Sentiments.     Y. — The  liejiex  Sentiments^ 


282  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 

namely,  the  desires  of  being  Loved,  of  Esteem  or  Admiration, 
of  our  own  Approval;  and  generally  all  springs  of  action 
designated  by  the  word  self — for  example,  self-love. 

With  regard  to  tlie  Moral  Sentiment,  or  Conscience,  in 
particular,  the  author's  resolution  of  Morality  into  Moral 
Rules,  necessarily  supposes  an  exercise  of  the  Reason,  to- 
gether with  the  Affections  above  described.  He  expressly 
mentions  '  the  Practical  Reason,  which  guides  us  in  applying 
Rules  to  our  actions,  and  in  discerning  the  consequences  of 
actions.'  He  does  not  allow  Individual  Conscience  as  an  ulti- 
mate or  supreme  authority,  but  requires  it  to  be  conformed  to 
the  Supreme  Moral  Rules,  arrived  at  in  the  manner  above 
described. 

On  the  subject  of  Disinterestedness,  he  maintains  a  modi- 
fication of  Paley's  selfish  theory.  He  allows  that  some  persons 
are  so  far  disinterested  as  to  be  capable  of  benevolence  and 
self-sacrifice,  without  any  motive  of  reward  or  punishment ; 
but  '  to  require  that  all  persons  should  be  such,  would  be  not 
only  to  require  what  we  certainly  shall  not  tind,  but  to  put 
the  requirements  of  our  Morality  in  a  shape  in  which  it  can- 
not convince  men.'  Accordingly,  like  Paley,  he  places  the 
doctrine  that  '  to  promote  the  happiness  of  others  will  lead  to 
our  own  happiness,'  exclusively  on  the  ground  of  Religion. 
He  honours  the  principle  that  '  virtue  is  happiness,'  but  pre- 
fers for  mankind  generally  the  form,  '  virtue  is  the  way  to 
happiness.'  In  short,  he  places  no  reliance  on  the  purely 
Disinterested  impulses  of  mankind,  although  he  admits  the 
existence  of  such. 

III. — He  discusses  the  Summum  Bonum,  or  Happiness, 
only  with  reference  to  his  Ethical  theory.  The  attaining  of 
the  objects  of  our  desires  yields  Enjoyment  or  Pleasure,  which 
cannot  be  the  supreme  end  of  life,  being  distinguished  from, 
and  opposed  to.  Duty.  Happiness  is  Pleasure  and  Duty  com- 
bined and  harmonized  by  Wisdom.  *  As  moral  beings,  our 
Happiness  must  be  found  in  our  Moral  Progress,  and  in  the 
consequences  of  our  Moral  Progress ;  we  must  be  happy  by 
being  virtuous.' 

Ke  coisplains  of  the  moralists  that  reduce  virtue  to 
Happiness  (in  the  sense  of  human  pleasure),  that  they  fail 
io  provide  a  measure  of  happiness,  or  to  resolve  it  into 
definite  elements  ;  and  again  urges  the  impossibility  of  calcu- 
lating the  whole  consequences  of  an  action  upon  human 
happiness. 

rV'. — With  respect  to  the  Moral  Code,  Whewell'a  arrange* 


THE   MOllAL   CODE.  283 

ment  is  interwoven  with  his  -derivation  of  moral  rules.  He 
enumerates  five  Cardinal  Virtues  as  the  substance  of  morality : 
—  Benevolence,  which  gives  expansion  to  our  Love ;  Justice, 
as  prescribing  the  measure  of  our  Mental  Desires ;  Thutpi,  the 
haw  of  Speech  in  connexion  with  its  purpose  ;  Pukity,  the  con- 
trol of  the  Bodilii  Appetites;  and  Order  (obedience  to  the 
Laws),  which  engages  the  Reason  in  the  consideration  of 
Rules  and  Laws  for  detining  Virtue  and  Vice.  Thus  the  five 
leading  branches  of  virtue  have  a  certain  parallelism  to  the  five 
chief  classes  of  motives — Bodily  Appetites,  Mental  Desires, 
Love  and  its  opposite,  the  need  of  a  Mutual  Understanding, 
and  Reason. 

As  already  seen,  he  considers  it  possible  to  derive  every 
one  of  these  virtues  from  the  consideration  of  man's  situation 
with  reference  to  each  : — Benevolence,  or  Humanity,  from  our 
social  relationship ;  Justice,  from  the  nature  of  Property ; 
Truth,  from  the  employment  of  Language  for  mutual  Under- 
standing; Parity,  from  considering  the  lower  parts  of  our 
nature  (the  Appetites)  as  governed  by  the  higher ;  and  Order, 
from  the  relation  of  Governor  and  Governed.  By  a  self- 
evident,  intuitive,  irresistible  consideration  of  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  we  are  led  to  these  several  virtues  in  the 
detail,  and  their  sum  is  the  Supreme  Rule  of  Life. 

Not  content  with  these  five  express  moral  principles,  he 
considers  that  the  Supreme  Law  requires,  as  adjuncts,  two 
other  virtues ;  to  these  he  gives  the  names  Earnestness,  or 
Zeal,  and  Moral  Purpose,  meaning  that  everything  whatso- 
ever should  be  done  for  moral  ends. 

V. — The  relation  of  Ethics  to  Politics  in  Whewell's  system 
is  one  of  intimacy,  and  yet  of  independence.  The  Laws  of 
States  supply  the  materials  of  human  action,  by  defining  pro- 
perty, &c.,  for  the  time  being;  to  which  definitions  morality 
must  correspond.  On  the  other  hand,  morality  supplies  the 
Idea,  or  ideal,  of  Justice,  to  which  the  Laws  of  Society  should 
progressively  conform  themselves.  The  Legislator  and  the 
Jurist  must  adapt  their  legislation  to  the  point  of  view  of  the 
Moralist;  and  the  moi^alist,  while  enjoining  obedience  to  their 
dictates,  should  endeavour  to  correct  the  inequalities  produced 
by  laws,  and  should  urge  the  improvement  of  Law,  to  make 
it  conformable  to  morality.  The  Moral  is  in  this  way  con- 
trasted with  the  Jural,  a  useful  word  of  the  author's  coining. 
He  devotes  a  separate  Book,  entitled  '  Rights  and  Obligations,' 
to  the  foundations  of  Jurivsprudence.  He  makes  a  five-fold 
division  of  Rights,  grounded  on  his  classification  of  the  Springs 


284  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — FERKIER. 

of  Human  Action  ;  Rights  of  Personal  Security,  Froperty,  Ooih- 
tractj  Marriage,  Government ;  and  justifies  this  division  afl 
against  others  proposed  by  jurists. 

VI. —  He  introduces  the  Morality  of  Religion  as  a  supple- 
ment to  the  Morality  of  Reason.  The  separation  of  tlie  two, 
he  remarks,  '  enables  us  to  trace  the  results  of  the  moral 
guidance  of  human  Reason  consistently  and  continuously, 
while  we  still  retain  a  due  sense  of  the  superior  authority  of 
Religion.'  As  regards  the  foundations  of  Natural  and  Revealed 
Religion,  he  adopts  the  line  of  argument  most  usual  with 
English  Theologians. 

JAMES  FREDEEICK  FERRIEE.         [1808-64.] 

In  his  'Lectures  on  Greek  Philosophy'  (Remains,  Vol.  I.), 
Ferrier  has  indicated  his  views  on  the  leading  Ethical  con- 
troversies. 

These  will  appear,  if  we  select  his  conclusions,  on  the  three 
following  points  : — The  Moral  Sense,  the  nature  of  Sympathy, 
and  the  Summuni  Bonum. 

1.  He  considers  that  the  Sophists  first  distinctly  broached 
the  question — What  is  man  by  nature,  and  what  is  he  by  con- 
venti(m  or  fashion  ? 

'  This  prime  question  of  moral  philosophy,  as  I  have  called 
it,  is  no  easy  one  to  answer,  for  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  efi'ect 
the  discrimination  out  of  which  the  answer  must  proceed.  It 
is  a  question,  perhaps,  to  which  no  complete,  but  only  an  ap- 
proximate, answer  can  be  returned.  One  common  mistake  is 
to  ascribe  more  to  the  natural  man  than  properly  belongs  to 
him,  to  ascribe  to  him  attributes  and  endowments  which 
belong  only  to  the  social  and  artificial  man.  Some  writers  — 
Hutcheson,  for  example,  and  he  is  followed  by  many  others — 
are  of  opinion  that  man  naturally  has  a  conscience  or  moral 
sense  which  discriminates  between  right  and  wrong,  just  as 
he  has  naturally  a  sense  of  taste,  which  distinguishes  between 
sweet  and  bitter,  and  a  sense  of  sight,  which  discriminates 
between  red  and  blue,  or  a  sentient  organism,  which  dis- 
tinguishes between  pleasure  and  pain.  That  man  has  by 
nature,  and  from  the  first,  the  possibility  of  attaining  to  aeon- 
science  is  not  to  be  denied.  That  he  has  within  him  by  birth- 
right something  out  of  which  conscience  is  developed,  I  firmly 
believe;  and  what  this  is  I  shall  endeavour  by-and-by  to  show 
when  I  come  to  speak  of  Sok rates  and  his  philosophy  as 
opposed  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Sophists.     Bat  that  the  man 


WHAT   IS   MAN    BY   NATURE?  285 

is  furnished  by  nature  witli  a  conscience  ready-made,  just  as 
he  is  furnished  with  a  ready-raade  sensational  apparatus,  this 
is  a  doctrine  in  which  I  have  no  faith,  and  which  I  regard  as 
altogether  erroneous.  It  arises  out  of  the  disposition  to 
attribute  more  to  the  natural  man  than  properly  belongs  to 
him.  The  other  error  into  which  inquirers  are  apt  to  fall  in 
making  a  discrimination  between  what  man  is  by  nature,  and 
what  he  is  by  convention,  is  the  opposite  of  the  one  just  men- 
tioned. They  sometimes  attribute  to  the  natural  man  less 
than  jiroperly  belongs  to  him.  And  this,  I  think,  was  the 
error  into  which  the  Sophists  were  betrayed.  They  f  U  into 
it  inadvertently,  and  not  with  any  design  of  embracing  or 
promulgating  erroneous  opinions.' 

2.  With  reference  to  Sympathy,  he  differs  from  Adam 
Smith's  view,  that  it  is  a  native  and  original  affection  of  the 
heart,  like  hunger  and  thirst.  Mere  feeling,  he  contends, 
can  never  take  a  man  out  of  self.  It  is  thought  that  overleaps 
this  boundary ;  not  the  feeling  of  sensation,  but  the  thought 
of  one's  self  and  one's  sensations,  gives  the  ground  and  the 
condition  of  sympathy.  Sympathy  has  self-consciousness  for 
its  foundation.  Very  young  children  have  little  sympathy, 
because  in  them  the  idea  of  self  is  but  feebly  developed. 

3.  In  his  chapter  on  the  Cynic  and  Cyrenaic  schools,  he 
discusses  at  length  the  summum  bonum,  or  Happiness,  and, 
by  implication,  the  Ethical  end,  or  Standard.  He  considers 
that  men  have  to  keep  in  view  two  ends ;  the  one  the  main- 
tenance of  their  own  nature,  as  rational  and  thinking  beings ; 
the  other  their  happiness  or  pleasure.  He  will  not  allow  that 
we  are  to  do  right  at  all  hazards,  irrespective  of  utility  ;  3'^et 
he  considers  that  there  is  something  defective  in  the  scheme 
that  sets  aside  virtue  as  the  good,  and  enthrones  happiness  in 
its  place.     He  sums  up  as  follows  : — ■ 

'  We  thus  see  that  a  complete  body  of  ethics  should  embrace 
two  codes,  two  systems  of  rules,  the  one  of  which  we  may  call 
the  fundamental  or  antecedent,  or  under-ground  ethics,  as 
underlying  the  other  ;  and  the  other  of  which  we  may  call  the 
upper  or  subsequent,  or  above-ground  ethics,  as  resting  on, 
and  modified  by  the  former.  The  under- ground  ethics  would 
inculcate  on  man  the  necessity  of  being  what  he  truly  is, 
namely,  a  creature  of  reason  and  of  thonght;  in  short,  the 
necessity  of  being  a  man,  and  of  preserving  to  himself  this 
status.  Here  the  end  is  virtue,  that  is,  the  life  and  health  of 
the  soul,  and  nothing  but  this.  The  above-ground  ethics 
would   inculcate  on   man  the  necessity  of  being  a  happy  nian. 


286  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — MANSEL. 

It  is  not  enough  for  man  to  be ;  he  mast,  moreover,  if  possible, 
he  happy.  The  fundamental  ethics  look  merely  to  his  being, 
i.e.,  his  being  rational ;  the  upper  ethics  look  principally  to 
his  being  happy,  but  they  are  bound  to  take  care  that  in  all 
his  happiness  he  does  nothing  to  violate  his  rationality,  the 
health  and  virtue  of  the  soul.' 


HENRY  LONGUEVILLE  MAKSEL. 

Mr.  Mansel,  in  his  '  Metaphysics,'  has  examined  the  question 
of  a  moral  standard,  and  the  nature  of  the  moral  faculty,  ac- 
cepting, with  slight  and  unimportant  modifications,  the  cur- 
rent theory  of  a  moral  sense. 

1.  The  Moral  Faculty.  That  the  conceptions  of  right  and 
wrong  are  sui  generis,  is  proved  (1)  by  the  fact  that  in  all 
languages  there  are  distinct  terms  for  '  right '  and  '  agreeable  ;' 
(2)  by  the  testimony  of  consciousness  ;  and  (3)  by  the 
mutual  inconsistencies  of  the  antagonists  of  a  moral  sense. 
The  moral  faculty  is  not  identical  with  Reason  ;  for  the 
understanding  contributes  to  truth  only  one  of  its  ele- 
ments, namely,  the  concept;  in  addition,  the  concept  must 
agree  with  the  fact  as  presented  in  intuition.  The  moral 
sense  is  usually  supposed  to  involve  the  perception  of  qualities 
only  in  so  far  as  they  are  jjleasing  or  displeasing.  To  this 
representation  Mr.  Mansel  objects.  In  an  act  of  moral  con- 
sciousness two  things  are  involved:  a  perception  or  judgment, 
and  a  sentiment  or  feeling.  Bat  the  judgment  itself  may  be 
farther  divided  into  two  parts  :  '  the  one,  an  individual  fact, 
presented  now  and  here ;  the  other,  a  general  law,  valid 
always  and  everywhere.'  This  is  the  distinction  between 
presentative  and  representative  Knowledge.  In  every  act  of 
consciousness  there  is  some  individual  fact  presented,  and  an 
operation  of  the  understanding.  '  A  conscious  act  of  pure 
moral  sense,  like  a  conscions  act  of  pure  physical  sense,  if  it 
ever  takes  place  at  all,  takes  place  at  a  time  of  which  we  have 
no  remembrance,  and  of  which  we  can  give  no  account.'  The 
intuitive  element  may  be  called  conscience;  the  representing 
element  is  the  understanding.  On  another  point  he  differs 
from  the  ordinary  theory.  It  is  commonly  said  that  we  imme- 
diately perceive  the  moral  character  of  acts,  whether  by  our- 
selves or  by  others.  But  this  would  implicate  two  facts, 
neither  of  which  we  can  be  conscious  of:  (1)  a  law  binding 
on  a  certain  person,  and  (2)  his  conduct  as  agreeing  or  dis- 
agreeing with  that  law.     Now,   1   can   infer  the  existence  of 


THE  MORAL  NATURE   OF  GOD.  287 

Bnch  a  law  only  by  representing  his  mind  as  constituted  like 
my  own.  We  can,  in  fact,  immediately  perceive  moral  quali- 
ties only  in  our  own  actions. 

2.  The  Moral  Standard.  This  is  treated  as  a  branch  of 
Ontology,  and  designated  the  '  Real  in  morality.'  He  declares 
that  Kant's  notion  of  an  absolute  moral  law,  binding  by  its 
inherent  power  over  the  mind,  is  a  mere  fiction.  The  differ- 
ence between  inclination  and  the  moral  imperative  is  merely 
a  difference  between  lower  and  higher  pleasure.  The  moral 
law  can  have  no  authority  unless  imposed  by  a  superior,  as  a 
law  emanating  from  a  lawgiver,  if  man  is  not  accountable 
to  some  higher  being,  there  is  no  distinction  between  duty 
and  pleasure.  The  standard  of  right  and  wrong  is  the  moral 
nature  (not  the  arbitrary  will)  of  God.*  Now,  as  we  cannot 
know  God — an  infinite  being, — so  we  have  but  a  relative  con- 
ception of  morality.  We  may  have  lower  and  higher  ideas  of 
duty.  Morality  therefore  admits  of  progress.  Bat  no  advance 
in  morality  contradicts  the  princijjles  previously  acknowledged, 
however  it  may  vary  the  acts  whereby  those  principles  are 
carried  out.     And  each  advance  takes  its  place  in  the  mind, 

*  *  The  theory  which  places  the  standard  of  morality  in  the  Bivine 
nature  must  not  be  coufounded  with  that  which  places  it  in  the  arbitrary 
will  of  God.  God  did  not  en  ate  mora  ity  by  his  will ;  it  is  inherent  in 
his  nature,  and  co-etemal  with  himself;  nor  can  he  be  conceived  as 
capable  of  reversing  it.'  The  distinction  here  drawn  does  not  avoid  the 
fatal  objection  to  tne  simpler  theory,  namely,  that  it  takes  away  the  moral 
character  of  (iod.  The  acts  of  a  sovereign  cannot,  with  any  propriety,  as 
Austin  has  shown,  be  termed  either  legal  or  illegal ;  in  like  manner,  if 
God  is  a  moral  lawgiver,  if  '  he  is  accountable  to  no  one,'  then  '  his  duty 
and  his  pleasure  are  undistinguishable  from  each  other,'  and  he  cannot 
without  self-contradiction  be  called  a  moral  being.  Even  upon  Mr. 
INlansel's  own  theory,  it  is  hardly  correct  to  say  that  '  God  did  not  create 
morality  by  his  will.'  Morality  involves  two  elements— one,  rules  of 
conduct,  the  other,  an  obligation  to  observe  them.  Now,  the  authority 
or  obligatoriness  of  moral  laws  has  been  made  to  depend  upon  the  will  of 
God,  so  that,  prior  to  that  will,  m(-rality  could  not  exist.  Hence  the  only 
part  of  morality  that  can  be  co-eteinal  with  God,  is  simply  the  rules  of 
morality,  without  their  ob!igat(Tiness,  the  salt  without  its  savour.  The 
closing  assertion  that  God  cannot  reverse  molality,  may  mean  either  that 
it  would  be  inconsistent  with  his  immutability  to  reverse  the  laws  he  had 
himself  established,  or  that  he  is  compelled  by  his  nature  to  impose 
certain  rules,  and  no  others.  The  first  supposition  is  a  truism ;  the 
second  is  not  proved.  For,  since  M  r.  Mansel  has  discarded  as  a  fiction  any 
'  absolute  law  of  duty,'  it  is  hard  to  conJLCture  whence  he  could  derive 
any  compulsorj'  choice  of  ruk-s.  Why  God  commands  some  things  in 
preferer.ce  to  others — whether  from  a  regard  to  the  happiness  of  all  his 
creatures,  or  of  some  only;  whether  wiih  a  viiw  to  his  own  glory,  or 
from  conformity  with  some  abstract  notion^ — has  been  much  disputed** 
and  it  is  quite  concdvable  that  he  may  not  adopt  any  of  those  objects. 


288  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— JOHN  STUART  MILU 

not  as  a  question  to  be  supported  by  argument,  but  as  an 
axiom  to  be  intuitively  admitted.  Each  principle  appears 
true  and  irreversible  so  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is  liable  to  be 
merged  in  a  more  comprehensive  formula.  It  is  an  error  of 
philosophers  to  imagine  that  they  have  an  absolute  standard 
of  morals,  and  thereupon  to  set  out  a  j^riori  the  criterion  of  a 
possibly  true  revelation.  Kant  said  that  the  revealed  com- 
mands of  God  could  have  no  religious  value,  unless  approved 
by  the  moral  reason ;  and  Fichte  held  that  no  true  revelation 
could  contain  any  intimation  of  future  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, or  any  moral  rule  not  deducible  from  the  principles  of 
the  practical  reason.  Bat  revelation  has  enlightened  the 
practical  reason,  as  by  the  maxim — to  love  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  tuy  neighbour  as  thyself — a  maxim,  says  Mr. 
Mansel,  that  philosophy  in  vain  toiled  after,  and  subsequently 
borrowed  without  acknowledgment. 

JOHN  STUART  MILL. 

Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  examines  the  basis  of  Ethics  in  a  small  work 
entitled  Utilitarianism. 

After  a  chapter  of  General  Remarks,  he  proposes  (Chapter 
II.)  to  enquire.  What  Utilitarianism  is?  This  creed  holds 
that  actions  are  right  in  proportion  as  they  tend  to  promote 
happiness,  wrong  as  they  tend  to  produce  the  reverse  of 
happiness.  By  happiness  is  intended  pleasure,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  pain  ;  by  unhappiness,  pain,  and  the  privation  of 
pleasure.  The  things  included  under  pleasure  and  pain  may 
require  farther  explanation ;  but  this  does  not  affect  the 
general  theory.  To  the  ar  ^nsation  that  pleasure  is  a  mean 
and  grovelling  object  of  pursuit,  the  answer  is,  that  human 
beings  are  capable  of  pleasures  that  are  not  grovellirg.  It  is 
compatible  with  utility  to  recognize  some  Jiinds  of  pleasure  as 
more  valuable  than  others.  There  are  pleasures  that,  irre- 
spective of  amount,  are  held  by  all  persons  that  have  experi- 
enced them  to  be  preferable  to  others.  Few  human  beings 
would  consent  to  become  beasts,  or  fools,  or  base,  in  con- 
sideration of  a  greater  allowance  of  pleasure.  Inseparable 
from  the  estiniate  of  pleasure  is  a  sevse  oj  dLgnitij^  which 
determines  a  preference  among  enjoyments. 

But  this  distinction  in  kind  is  not  essential  to  the  justi- 
fication of  the  standard  of  Utility.  That  standard  is  not  the 
agent's  own  greatest  happiness,  but  the  greatest  amount  of 
happiness   altogether.       However    little    the    higher    virtues 


HAPPINESS  THE  ETHICAL  END. 

might  contribute  to  one's  own  happiness,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  world  in  general  gains  by  them. 

Another  objection  to  the  doctrine  is,  that  happiness  is  a 
thing  unattainable,  and  that  no  one  has  a  right  to  it.  Not 
only  can  men  do  without  happiness,  but  renunciation  is  the 
first  condition  of  all  nobleness  of  character. 

In  reply,  the  author  remarks  that,  supposing  happiness 
Impossible,  the  prevention  of  uuhappiness  might  still  be  an 
object,  which  is  a  mode  of  Utility,  liut  the  alleged  impossi- 
bility of  happiness  is  either  a  verbal  quibble  or  an  exaggera- 
tioni  No  one  contends  for  a  life  of  sustained  rapture  ; 
occasional  moments  of  such,  in  an  existence  of  few  and 
transitory  pains,  many  and  various  pleasures,  with  a  pre- 
dominance of  the  active  over  the  passive,  and  moderate 
expectations  on  the  whole,  constitute  a  life  worthy  to  be 
called  happiness.  Numbers  of  mankind  have  been  satisfied 
with  much  less.  There  are  two  great  factors  of  enjoyment — 
tranquillity  and  excitement.  With  the  one,  little  pleasure 
will  suffice  ;  with  the  other,  considerable  pain  can  be  endured. 
It  does  not  appear  impossible  to  secure  both  in  alternation. 
The  principal  defect  in  persons  of  fortunate  lot  is  to  care  for 
nobody  but  themselves  ;  this  curtails  the  excitements  of  lite, 
and  makes  everj-thing  dwindle  as  the  end  approaches.  Another 
circumstance  rendering  life  unsatisfactory  is  the  want  of 
mental  cultivation,  by  which  men  are  deprived  of  the  inex- 
haustible pleasures  of  knowledge,  not  merely  in  the  shape  of 
science,  but  as  practice  and  fine  art.  It  is  not  at  all  difficult 
to  indicate  sources  of  happiness  ;  the  main  stress  of  the  prob- 
lem lies  in  the  contest  with  the  positive  evils  of  life,  the  great 
sources  o'  physical  and  of  mental  suffering — indigence,  disease, 
and  the  unkindness,  worthlessnoss,  or  premature  loss  of  objects 
of  affection.  Poverty  and  Disease  may  be  contracted  ia 
dimensions ;  and  even  vicissitudes  of  fortune  are  not  wholly 
beyond  control. 

It  is  unquestionably  possible  to  do  without  happiness. 
This  is  the  lot  of  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  and  is  often 
voluntarily  chosen  by  the  hero  or  the  martj'r.  But  self- 
sacrifice  is  not  its  own  end;  it  must  be  made  to  earn  for 
others  immunity  from  saci'itice.  It  must  be  a  very  imperfect 
state  of  the  world's  arrangements  that  requires  any  one  to 
serve  the  happiness  of  others  by  the  absolute  sacrifice  of  their 
own  ;  yet  undoubtedly  while  the  world  is  in  that  imperfect 
state,  the  readiness  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  is  the  highest 
virtue  that  can  be  found  in  man.  Nay,  farther,  the  conscious 
13 


290  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— JOHN   STUART   MILL. 

ability  to  do  without  happiness,  in  such  a  condition  of  the 
world,  is  the  best  prospect  of  realizing  such  happiness  as  is 
attainable.  Meanwhile,  self-devotion  belongs  as  much  to  the 
Utilitarian  as  to  the  Stoic  or  the  Transcendentalisb ;  with  the 
reservation  that  a  sacrifice  not  tending  to  increase  the  sum  of 
happiness  is  to  be  held  as  wasted.  The  golden  rule,  do  as 
you  would  be  done  by,  is  the  ideal  perfection  of  utilitaiian 
morality.  The  means  of  approaching  this  ideal  are,  first, 
that  laws  and  society  should  endeavour  to  place  the  interest 
of  the  individual  in  harmony  with  the  interest  of  the  whole ; 
and,  secondly,  that  et.  ucMtion  and  opinion  should  establish 
in  the  mind  of  each  individual  an  indissoluble  association 
between  his  own  good  and  the  good  of  the  whole. 

The  system  of  Utility  is  oLjected  to,  on  another  side,  as 
being  too  high  for  humanity  ;  men  cannot  be  perpetually 
acting  with  a  view  to  the  general  interests  of  society.  But 
this  is  to  mistake  the  meamng  of  a  standard,  and  to  confound 
the  rule  of  action  with  the  motive.  Ethics  tells  us  what  are 
our  duties,  or  by  what  test  we  are  to  know  them ;  but  no 
system  of  ethics  requires  that  the  motive  of  every  action 
should  be  a  feeling  of  duty  ;  our  actions  are  rightly  done  pro- 
vided only  duty  does  not  condemn  them.  The  great  majority 
of  actions  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  good  of  the  world — 
they  end  with  the  individual ;  it  happens  to  few  persons,  and 
that  rarely,  to  be  public  benefactors. v  Private  utility  is  in  the 
mass  of  cases  all  that  we  have  to  attend  to.  As  regards 
abstinences,  indeed,  it  would  be  unworthy  of  an  intelligent 
agent  not  to  be  aware  that  the  action  is  one  that,  if  practised 
generally,  would  be  generally  injurious,  and  to  nfit  feel  a  sense  of 
obligation  on  that  ground;  but  such  an  amount  of  regard  for 
the  general  interest  is  required  under  every  system  of  morals. 

It  is  farther  alleged  against  Utility,  that  it  renders  nitu 
cold  and  unsympathizing,  chills  the  moral  feelings  towards 
individuals,  and  regards  only  the  dry  consequences  of  actions, 
without  reference  to  the  moral  qualities  of  the  agent.  The 
author  replies  that  Utility,  like  any  other  system,  admits  that 
a  right  action  does  not  necessarily  indicate  a  virtuous  charac- 
ter. Still,  he  contends,  in  the  long  run,  the  best  proof  of  a 
good  character  is  good  act-ons.  If  the  objection  means  that 
utilitarians  do  not  lay  suflicient  stress  on  the  beauties  of  cha- 
racter, he  replies  that  this  is  the  acciflent  of  persons  cultivatino* 
their  moral  feelings  more  than  their  sympathies  and  artistic 
perceptions,  and  may  occur  under  every  view  of  the  foundation 
of  morals. 


OBJECTIONS   TO   UTILITY   ANSWERED.  291 

The  next  objectiori  considered  is  tliat  Utility  is  a  godless 
doctrine.  The  answer  is,  that  whoever  believes  in  the  perfect 
goodness  and  wisdom  of  God,  necessarily  believes  that  what- 
ever he  has  thought  fit  to  reveal  on  the  subject  of  morals 
must  fulfil  the  requirements  of  utility  in  a  supreme  degree. 

Again,  Utility  is  stigmatized  as  an  immoral  doctrine,  by 
carrying  out  Expediency  in  opposition  to  Principle.  But  the 
Expedient  in  this  sense  means  what  is  expedient  for  the  agent 
himself,  and,  instead  of  being  the  same  thing  with  the  useful, 
is  a  branch  of  the  hurtful.  It  would  often  be  expedient  to  tell 
a  lie,  but  so  momentous  and  so  widely  extended  are  the  utilities 
of  truth,  that  veracity  is  a  rule  of  transcendent  expediency. 
Tet  all  moralists  admit  exceptions  to  it,  solely  on  account  of 
the  manifest  inexpediency  of  observing  it  on  certain  occasions. 

The  author  does  not  omit  to  notice  the  usual  charge  that 
it  is  impossible  to  make  a  calculation  of  consequences  previous 
to  every  action,  which  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  no  one  can 
be  under  the  guidance  of  Christianity,  because  there  is  not 
time,  on  the  occasion  of  doing  anything,  to  read  through  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments.  The  real  answer  is  (substantially 
the  same  as  Austin's)  that  there  has  been  ample  time  during 
the  past  duration  of  the  species.  Mankind  have  all  that  time 
been  learning  by  experience  the  consequences  of  actions ;  on 
that  experience  they  have  founded  both  their  prudence  and 
their  morality.  It  is  an  inference  from  the  principle  of  utility, 
which  regards  morals  as  a  practical  art,  that  moral  rules  are 
improvable  ;  but  there  exists  under  the  ultimate  principle  a 
number  of  intermediate  generalizations,  applicable  at  once  to 
the  emergencies  of  human  conduct.  Nobody  argues  that 
navigation  is  not  founded  on  astronomy,  because  sailors  can- 
not wait  to  calculate  the  Nautical  Almanack. 

As  to  the  stock  argument,  that  people  will  pervert  utility 
for  their  private  ends,  Mr.  Mill  challenges  the  production  of 
any  ethical  creed  where  this  may  not  happen.  The  fault  is 
due,  not  to  the  origin  of  the  rules,  but  to  the  complicated 
nature  of  human  affairs,  and  the  necessity  of  allowing  a  certain 
latitude,  under  the  moral  responsibility  of  the  agent,  for  ac- 
commodation to  circumstances.  ^ind  in  cases  of  conflict, 
utility  is  a  better  guide  than  anythin^^  found  in  systems  whose 
moral  laws  claim  independent  authority. 

Chapter  III.  considers  the  Ultiaiate  Sanction  of  the 
Principle  of  Utility. 

It  is  a  proper  question  with  regard  to  a  supposed  moral 
standard, — What  is  its  sanction  ?    what  is  the  source  of  ita 


292  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — JOHN   STUART  MILL. 

obligation  ?  wherein  lies  its  binding  force  ?  The  customary 
morality  is  consecrated  by  education  and  opinion,  and  seems 
to  be  obligatory  in  itself;  but  to  present,  as  the  source  of 
obligation,  some  general  principle,  not  surrounded  by  the 
halo  of  consecration,  seems  a  paradox ;  the  superstructure 
seems  to  stand  better  without  such  a  foundation.  This  diffi- 
culty belongs  to  every  attempt  to  reduce  morality  to  first 
principles,  unless  it  should  happen  that  the  principle  chosen 
has  as  much  sacredness  as  any  of  its  ai^j^lications. 

Utility  has,  or  might  have,  all  the  sanctions  attaching  to 
any  other  system  of  morals.  Those  sanctions  are  either 
External  or  Internal.  The  External  are  the  hope  of  favour 
and  the  fear  of  displeasure  (1)  from  our  fellow-creatures,  or 
(2)  from  the  Kuler  of  the  Universe,  along  with  any  sympathy 
or  affection  for  them,  or  love  and  awe  of  Him,  inclining  us 
apart  from  selfish  njotives.  There  is  no  reason  why  these 
motives  should  not  attach  themselves  to  utilitarian  morality. 

The  Internal  Sanction,  under  every  standard  of  duty,  is 
of  one  uniform  character — a  feeling  in  our  own  mind  ;  a  pain, 
more  or  less  intense,  attendant  on  violation  of  duty,  which  in 
properly  cultivated  moral  natures  rises,  in  the  more  serious 
cases,  into  shrinking  from  it  as  an  impossibility.  This  feeling, 
when  disinterested,  and  connecting  itself  with  the  pure  idea 
of  duty,  is  the  essence  of  Conscience ;  a  complex  phenomenon, 
involving  associations  from  sympathy,  from  love,  and  still 
more  from  fear;  from  the  recollections  of  childhood,  and  of 
all  our  past  life  ;  from  self-esteem,  desire  of  the  esteem  of 
others,  and  occasionally  even  selt-abasement.  This  extreme 
complication  is  an  obstacle  to  our  supposing  that  it  can  attach 
to  other  objects  than  what  are  found  at  present  to  excite  it. 
The  binding  force,  however,  is  the  mass  of  feeli»g  to  he  brohen 
through  in  order  to  violate  our  standard  of  right,  and  which, 
if  we  do  violate  that  standard,  will  have  to  be  afterwards 
encountered  as  remorse. 

Thus,  apart  from  external  sanctions,  the  ultimate  sanction, 
under  Utility,  is  the  same  as  for  other  standards,  namel}^,  the 
conscientious  feelings  of  mankind.  If  there  be  anything 
innate  in  conscience,  there  is  nothing  more  likely  than  that  it 
should  be  a  regard  to  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  others.  If 
so,  the  intuitive  ethics  w^ould  be  the  same  as  the  utilitarian ; 
and  it  is  admitted  on  all  hands  that  a  large  portion  of  morality 
turns  upon  what  is  due  to  the  interests  of  fellow-creatures. 

On  the  other  hand,  if,  as  the  author  believes,  the  moral 
feelings  are  not  innate,    they   are    not  for   that   reason  less 


NATURAL   SENTIMENT  IN  FAVOUR   OF  UTILITY.        293 

natural.  It  is  natural  to  man  to  speak,  to  reason,  to  cultivate 
the  ground,  to  build  cities,  though  these  are  acquired  faculties. 
So  the  moral  faculty,  if  not  a  part  of  our  nature,  is  a  natural 
outgrowth  of  it;  capable,  in  a  certain  small  degree,  of 
springing  up  spontaneously,  and  of  being  brought  to  a  high 
pitch  by  means  of  cultivation.  It  is  also  susceptible,  by  the 
use  of  the  external  sanctions  and  the  force  of  early  impres- 
sions, of  being  cultivated  in  almost  any  direction,  and  of  being 
perverted  to  absurdity  and  mischief. 

The  basis  of  natural  sentiment  capable  of  supporting  the 
utilitarian  morality  is  to  be  found  in  the  social  feelings  of  man- 
kind. The  social  state  is  so  natural,  so  necessary,  and  so 
habitual  to  man,  that  he  can  hardly  conceive  himself  otherwise 
than  as  a  member  of  society ;  and  as  civilization  advances, 
this  association  becomes  more  firmly  riveted.  All  strength- 
ening of  social  ties,  and  all  healthy  growth  of  society,  give  to 
each  individual  a  stronger  personal  interest  in  consulting  the 
welfare  of  others.  Each  comes,  as  though  instinctively,  to  be 
conscious  of  himself  as  a  being  that  of  course  pays  regard  to 
others.  There  is  the  strongest  motive  in  each  person  to 
manifest  this  sentiment,  and,  even  if  he  should  not  feel  it 
strongly  himself,  to  cherish  it  in  everybody  else.  The  smallest 
germs  of  the  feeling  are  thus  laid  hold  of,  and  nourished  by 
the  contagion  of  sympathy  and  the  influences  of  education ; 
and  by  the  powerful  agency  of  the  external  sanctions  there  is 
woven  around  it  a  complete  web  of  corroborative  association. 
In  an  improving  state  of  society,  the  influences  are  on  the 
increase  that  generate  in  each  individual  a  feeling  of  unity 
with  all  the  rest ;  which,  if  perfect,  would  make  him  never 
think  of  anything  for  self,  if  they  also  were  not  included.  Sup- 
pose, now,  that  this  feeling  of  unity  were  taught  as  a  religion, 
and  that  the  whole  force  of  education,  of  institutions,  and  of 
opinion,  were  directed  to  make  every  person  grow  up  sur- 
rounded with  the  profession  and  the  practice  of  it ;  can  there 
be  any  doubt  as  to  the  sufficiency  of  the  ultimate  sanction  for 
the  Happiness  morality  ? 

Even  in  our  present  low  state  of  advancement,  the  deeply- 
rooted  conception  that  each  individual  has  of  himself  as  a 
social  being  tends  to  make  him  wish  to  be  in  harmony  with 
his  fellow-creatures.  The  feeling  may  be,  in  most  persons, 
inferior  in  strength  to  the  selfish  feelings,  and  may  be  altogether 
wanting ;  but  to  such  as  possess  it,  it  has  all  the  characters  of 
a  natural  feeling,  and  one  that  they  would  not  desii^e  to  be 
without. 


294:  ETHICAL    SYSTEMS — JOHN    STUAKT   MILL. 

Chapter  TV.  is  Of  what  sort  of  proof  the  principle  op 
UTILITY  IS  SUSCEPTIBLE.  Questions  about  ends  are  questions  as 
to  what  things  are  desirable.  According  to  the  theory  of 
Utility,  happiness  is  desirable  as  an  end ;  all  other  things  are 
desirable  as  means.     What  is  the  proof  of  this  doctrine  ? 

As  the  proof,  that  the  sun  is  visible,  is  that  people  actually 
see  it,  so  the  proof  that  happiness  is  desirable,  is  that  people 
do  actually  desire  it.  No  reason  can  be  given  why  the  general 
happiness  is  desirable,  beyond  the  fact  that  each  one  desires 
their  own  happiness. 

But  granting  that  people  desire  happiness  as  one  of  their 
ends  of  conduct,  do  they  never  desire  anything  else  ?  To  all 
appearance  they  do;  they  desire  virtue,  and  the  absence  of 
vice,  no  less  surely  than  pleasure  and  the  absence  of  pain. 
Hence  the  opponents  of  utility  consider  themselves  entitled  to 
infer  that  happiness  is  not  the  standard  of  moral  approbation 
and  disapprobation. 

But  the  utilitarians  do  not  deny  that  virtue  is  a  thing  to 
be  desired.  The  very  reverse.  They  maintain  that  it  is  to  be 
desired,  and  that  fur  itself.  Although  considering  that  what 
makes  virtue  is  the  tendency  to  promote  happiness,  yet  they 
hold  that  the  mind  is  not  in  a  rin^bt  stat^,  not  in  a  state  con- 
formable to  Utility,  not  in  the  state  conducive  to  the  general 
happiness,  unless  it  has  adopted  this  essential  instrumentality 
so  warmly  as  to  love  it  for  its  own  sake.  It  is  necessary  to 
the  carrying  out  of  utility  that  certain  things,  originally  of 
the  nature  of  means,  should  come  by  association  to  be  a  part 
of  the  final  end.  Thus  health  is  but  a  means,  and  yet  we 
cherish  it  as  strongly  as  we  do  any  of  the  ultimate  pleasures 
and  pains.  So  virtue  is  not  originally  an  end,  but  it  is  capable 
of  becoming  so ;  it  is  to  be  desired  and  cherished  not  solely 
as  a  means  to  happiness,  but  as  a  part  of  happiness. 

The  notorions  instance  of  money  exemplifies  this  operation. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  power  and  fame  ;  although  these  are 
ends  as  well  as  means.  We  should  be  but  ill  provided  with 
happiness,  were  it  not  for  this  provision  of  nature,  whereby 
things,  originally  indifferent,  but  conducive  to  the  satisfaction 
of  our  primitive  desires,  become  iu  themselves  sources  of 
pleasure,  of  even  greater  value  than  the  primitive  pleasures, 
both  in  permanency  and  in  the  extent  of  their  occupation  of 
our  life.  Virtue  is  originally  valuable  as  bringing  pleasure 
and  avoiding  pain  ;  but  by  association  it  may  be  ieh  as  a  good 
in  itself,  and  be  desired  as  intensely  as  any  other  good ;  with 
this  superiority  over  money,  power,  or  fame,  that  it  makes 


HAPPINESS   THE    ULTIMATE   OBJECT   OF   DESIRE.         295 

the  individual  a  blessing  to  society,  while  these  others  may 
make  him  a  curse. 

With  the  allowance  thus  made  for  the  effect  of  association, 
the  author  considers  it  proved  that  there  is  in  reality  nothing 
desired  except  happiness.  Whatever  is  desired  otherwise  than 
as  a  means  to  some  end  beyond  itself,  and  ultimately  to  hap- 
piness, is  not  desired  for  itself  till  it  has  become  such.  Human 
nature  is  so  constituted,  he  thinks,  that  we  desire  nothing  but 
what  is  either  a  part  of  happiness  or  a  means  of  happiness ; 
and  no  other  proof  is  required  that  these  are  the  only  things 
desirable.  Whether  this  psychological  assertion  be  correct, 
must  be  determined  by  the  self-consciousness  and  observation 
of  the  most  practised  observers  of  human  nature. 

It  may  be  alleged  that,  although  desire  always  tends  to 
happiness,  yet  Will,  as  shown  by  actual  conduct,  is  different 
from  desire.  We  persist  in  a  course  of  action  long  after  the 
original  desire  has  faded.  Bat  this  is  merely  an  instance  of 
that  familiar  fact,  the  power  of  habit,  and  is  nowise  confined 
to  the  virtuous  actions.  Will  is  amenable  to  habit ;  we  may 
will  from  habit  what  we  no  longer  desire  for  itself,  or  desire 
only  because  we  will  it.  Bat  the  will  is  the  child  of  desire, 
and  passes  out  of  the  dominion  of  its  parent  only  to  come 
under  the  sway  of  habit.  What  is  the  result  of  habit  may 
not  be  intrinsically  good  ;  we  might  think  it  better  for  virtue 
that  habit  did  not  come  in,  were  it  not  that  the  other  influ- 
ences are  not  sufficiently  to  be  depended  on  for  unerring 
constancy,  until  they  have  acquired  this  farther  support. 

Chapter  V.  is  On  the  coxnexio'^  between  Justice  and 
Utility. 

The  strongest  obstacle  to  the  doctrine  of  Utility  has  been 
drawn  from  the  Idea,  of  Justice.  The  rapid  perception  and 
the  powerful  sentiment  connected  with  the  Just,  seem  to  show 
it  as  generically  distinct  from  every  variety  of  the  Expedient. 

To  see  whether  the  sense  of  justice  can  be  explained  on 
grounds  of  Utility,  the  author  begins  by  surveying  in  the 
concrete  the  things  usually  denominated  just.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  commonly  considered  unjust  to  deprive  any  one  of 
their  personal  liber. y,  or  property,  or  anything  secured  to 
them  by  law :  in  other  words,  it  is  unjust  to  violate  any  one's 
legal  rights.  Secondly,  The  legal  rights  of  a  man  may  be  such 
as  oiiglit  not  to  have  belonged  to  him ;  that  is,  the  law  con- 
ferring those  rights  may  be  a  bad  law.  When  a  law  is  bad, 
opinions  will  differ  as  to  the  justice  or  injustice  of  infringing 
it ;  some  think  that  no  law  should  be  disobeyed  by  the  iudi- 


296  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— JUHN    STUART   MILL. 

vidual  citizen ;  others  hold  that  it  is  just  to  resist  niijust 
laws.  It  is  thus  admitted  bj  all  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
moral  rights  the  refusal  of  which  is  injustice.  Thirdly,  it  is 
considered  just  that  each  person  should  receive  what  he  de- 
serves (whether  good  or  evil).  And  a  person  is  understood 
to  deserve  good  if  he  does  right,  evil  if  he  does  wrong ;  and 
in  particular  to  deserve  good  in  return  for  good,  and  evil  in 
return  for  evil.  Fourthly,  it  is  unjust  to  hreah  faith,  to 
violate  an  engagement,  or  disappoint  expectations  knowingly 
and  voluntarily  raised.  Like  other  obligations,  this  is  not 
absolute,  but  may  be  overruled  by  some  still  stronger  demand 
of  justice  on  the  other  side.  Fifthly,  It  is  inconsistent  with 
justice  to  he  jpartial ;  to  show  favour  or  prfeference  in  matters 
where  favour  does  not  apply.  We  are  expected  in  certain 
cases  to  prefer  our  friends  to  strangers;  but  a  tribunal  is 
bound  to  the  strictest  impartiality ;  rewards  and  punishments 
should  be  administered  impartially  ;  so  likewise  the  patronage 
of  important  public  offices.  Nearly  allied  to  impartiality  is 
the  idea  of  equality.  The  justice  of  giving  equal  protection 
to  the  rights  of  all  is  maintained  even  when  the  rights  them- 
selves are  very  unequal,  as  in  slavery  and  in  the  system  of 
ranks  or  castes.  There  are  the  greatest  differences  as  to  what 
is  equality  in  the  distribution  of  the  produce  of  labour;  some 
thinking  that  all  should  receive  alike  ;  others  that  the  neediest 
should  receive  most ;  others  that  the  distribution  should  be 
according  to  labour  or  services. 

To  get  a  clue  to  the  common  idea  running  through  all 
these  meanings,  the  author  refers  to  the  etymology  of  the 
word,  which,  in  most  languages,  points  to  something  ordained 
by  lavj.  Even  although  there  be  many  things  considered  just, 
that  we  do  not  usually  enforce  by  law,  yet  in  these  cases  it 
would  give  us  pleasure  if  law  could  be  brought  to  bear  upon 
offenders.  When  we  think  a  person  bound  in  justice  to  do  a 
thing,  we  should  like  to  see  him  punished  for  not  doing  it ;  we 
lament  the  obstacles  that  may  be  in  the  way,  and  strive  to 
make  amends  by  a  strong  expression  of  our  own  opinion.  The 
idea  of  legal  constraint  is  thus  the  generating  idea  of  justice 
throughout  all  its  transformations. 

The  real  turning  point  between  morality  and  simple  expe- 
diency is  contained  in  the  penal  sanction.  Duty  is  what  we 
may  exact  of  a  person ;  there  may  be  reasons  why  we  do  not 
exact  it,  but  the  person  himself  would  not  be  entitled  to  com- 
plain if  we  did  so.  Expediency,  on  the  other  hand,  points  to 
things  that  we  may  wish  people  to  do,  may  praise  them  for 


CONNEXION   BETWEEN  JUSTICE   AND   UTILITY.  297 

doing,  and  despise  them  for  not   doing,  while  we  do  not  con- 
sider it  proper  to  bring  in  the  aid  of  punishment. 

There  enters  farther  into  the  idea  of  Justice  what  has  been 
expressed  by  the  ill-chosen  phrase,  'perfect  obligation,'  mean- 
ing that  the  duty  involves  a  moral  right  on  the  part  of  some 
definite  person,  as  in  the  case  of  a  debt ;  an  imperfect  obliga- 
tion is  exemplified  bv  charity,  which  gives  no  legal  claim  to 
any  one  recipient.  Every  such  right  is  a  case  of  Justice, 
and  not  of  Beneficence. 

The  Idea  of  Justice  is  thus  shown  to  be  grounded  in  Law  ; 
and  the  next  question  is,  does  the  strong  feeling  or  sentiment 
of  Justice  grow  out  of  considerations  of  utility  ?  Mr.  Mill 
conceives  that  though  the  notion  of  expediency  or  utility  does 
not  give  birth  to  the  sentiment,  it  gives  birth  to  what  is 
moral  in  it. 

The  two  essentials  of  justice  are  (1)  the  desire  to  punish 
some  one,  and  (2)  the  notion  or  belief  that  harm  has  been 
done  to  some  definite  individual  or  individuals.  Now,  it 
appears  to  the  author  that  the  desire  to  punish  is  a  spon- 
taneous outgrowth  of  two  sentiments,  both  natural,  and,  it 
may  be,  instinctive  ;  the  impulse  of  self-defence,  and  the  feel- 
ing of  syinpathy.  We  naturally  resent,  repel,  and  retaliate, 
any  harm  done  to  ourselves  and  to  any  one  that  engages  our 
sympathies.  There  is  nothing  moral  in  mere  resentment ; 
the  moral  part  is  the  subordination  of  it  to  our  social  regards 
We  are  moi^al  beings,  i.i  proportion  as  we  restrain  our  private 
resentment  whenever  it  conflicts  with  the  interests  of  society. 
All  moralists  agree  with  Kant  in  saying  that  no  act  is  rig^ht 
that  could  not  be  adopted  as  a  law  by  all  rational  beings  (that 
is,  consistently  with  the  well-being  of  society). 

There  is" in  Justice  a  rule  of  conduct,  and  a  right  on  the 
part  of  some  one,  which  right  ought  to  be  enforced  by  society. 
If  it  is  asked  why  society  <jught  to  enforce  the  right,  there  is 
no  answer  but  the  general  utility.  If  that  expression  seem 
feeble  and  inadequate  to  account  for  the  eneriry  of  retalia- 
tion inspired  by  injustice,  the  author  asks  us  to  advert  to 
the  extraordinarily  important  and  impressive  kind  of  utility 
that  is  concerned.  The  interest  involved  is  security,  to  every 
one's  feelings  the  most  vital  of  all  interests.  All  other  earthly 
benefits  needed  by  one  person  are  not  needed  by  another; 
and  many  of  them  can,  if  necessary,  be  cheerfully  foregone,  or 
replaced  by  something  else  ;  but  security  no  human  being  can 
possibly  do  without ;  on  it  we  depend  for  all  our  immunity 
from  evil,  and  for  the  whole  value  of  all  and  every  good. 


298  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — JOHN   STUAKT   MILL. 

beyond  the  passing  moment.  Now,  this  most  indispensable 
of  all  necessaries,  afcer  physical  nutriment,  cannot  be  had 
unless  the  machinery  for  providing  it  is  kept  unintermittedly  in. 
active  play.  Our  notion,  therefore,  of  the  claim  we  have  on 
our  fellow-creatures  to  join  in  making  safe  for  us  the  very 
groundwork  of  our  existence,  gathers  feelings  around  it  so 
much  more  intense  than  those  concerned  in  any  of  the  more 
common  cases  of  utility,  that  the  difference  in  degree  (as  is 
often  the  case  in  psychology)  becomes  a  real  difference  in 
kind.  The  claim  assumes  that  character  of  absoluteness,  that 
apparent  infinity,  and  incommensurability  with  all  other  con- 
siderations, which  constitute  the  distinction  between  the 
feeling  of  right- and  wrong,  and  that  of  ordinary  expediency 
and  inexpediency. 

Having  presented  his  own  analysis  of  the  sentiment  of 
Justice,  the  author  proceeds  to  examine  the  intuitive  theory. 
The  charge  is  constantly  brought  against  Utility,  that  it  is  an 
uncertain  standard,  differently  interpreted  by  each  person. 
The  only  safety,  it  is  pretended,  is  found  in  the  immutable, 
ineffaceable,  and  unmistakeable  dictates  of  Justice,  carrying 
their  evidence  in  themselves,  and  independent  of  the  fluctua- 
tions of  opinions.  But  so  far  is  this  from  being  the  fact,  that 
there  is  as  much  difference  of  opinion,  and  as  much  discussion, 
about  what  is  just,  as  about  what  is  useful  to  society. 

To  take  a  few  instances.  On  the  question  of  Punishment, 
some  hold  it  unjust  to  punish  any  one  by  way  of  example,  or 
for  any  end  but  the  good  of  the  sufferer.  Others  maintain 
that  the  good  of  the  society  is  the  only  admissible  end  of 
punishment.  Robert  Owen  affirms  that  punishment  altogether 
is  unjust,  and  that  we  should  deal  with  crime  only  through 
education.  Now,  without  an  appeal  to  expediency,  it  is  im- 
possible to  arbitrate  among  these  conflicting  views ;  each  one 
has  a  maxim  of  justice  on  its  side.  Then  as  to  the  apportion- 
ing of  punishments  to  offences.  The  rule  that  recommends 
itself  to  the  primitive  sentiment  of  justice  is  an  eye  for  an  eye, 
a  tooth  for  a  tooth  ;  a  rule  formally  abandoned  in  European 
countries,  although  not  without  its  hold  upon  the  popular 
mind.  With  many,  the  test  of  justice,  in  penal  infliction,  is 
that  it  should  be  proportioned  to  the  offence ;  while  others 
maintain  that  it  is  just  to  inflict  only  such  an  amount  of 
punishment  as  will  deter  from  the  commission  of  the  offence. 

Besides  the  differences  of  opinion  already  alluded  to,  as  to 
the  payment  of  labour,  how^  many,  and  irreconcileable,  are  the 
Btandards  of  justice  appealed  to  on  the  matter  of  taxation  ? 


DISTINCTION  BETWEEN  THE  JUST  AND  THE  EXPEDIENT.    299 

One  opinion  is,  that  taxes  should  be  in  proportion  to  pecuniary 
means  ;  others  think  the  wealthy  should  pay  a  higher  propor- 
tion. In  point  of  natural  justice,  a  case  might  be  made  out 
for  disregarding  means,  and  taking  the  same  sum  from  each, 
as  the  privileges  are  equally  bestowed  :  yet  from  feelings  of 
humanity  and  social  expediency  no  one  advocates  that  view. 
So  that  there  is  no  mode  of  extricating  the  question  but  the 
utilitarian. 

To  sum  up.  The  great  distinction  between  the  Just  and 
the  Expedient  is  the  distinction  between  the  essentials  of 
well-being — the  moral  rules  forbidding  mankind  to  hurt  one 
another — and  the  rules  that  only  point  out  the  best  mode  of 
managing  some  department  of  human  aifairs.  It  is  in  the 
higher  moralities  of  protection  from  harm  that  each  individual 
has  the  greatest  stake ;  and  they  are  the  moralities  that  com- 
pose the  obligations  of  justice.  It  is  on  account  of  these  that 
punishment,  or  retribution  of  evil  for  evil,  is  universally  in- 
cluded in  the  idea.  For  the  carrying  out  of  the  process  of 
retaliation,  certain  maxims  are  necessary  as  instruments  or  as 
checks  to  abuse;  as  that  involuntary  acts  are  not  punishable ; 
that  no  one  shall  be  condemned  unheard ;  that  punishment 
should  be  proportioned  to  the  offence.  Impartiality,  the  first 
of  judicial  virtues,  is  necessary  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  other 
conditions  of  justice :  while  from  the  highest  form  of  doing 
to  each  according  to  their  deserts,  it  i  ^  ;.!ie  abstract  standard 
of  social  and  distributive  justice  ;  aud  is  in  this  sense  a  direct 
emanation  from  the  first  principle  of  morals,  the  principle  of 
the  greatest  Happiness.  All  social  inequalities  that  have 
ceased  to  be  considered  as  expedient,  assume  the  character, 
not  of  simple  inexpediency,  but  of  injustice. 

Besides  the  *  Utilitarianism,'  Mr.  Mill's  chief  Ethical  disser- 
tations are  his  review  of  Whewell's  Moral  Treatises  (Disserta- 
tions and  Discussions,  Vol.  II.),  and  parts  of  his  Essay  on 
Liberty.  By  collecting  his  views  generally  under  the  usual 
heads,  we  shall  find  a  place  for  some  points  additional  to  what 
are  given  in  the  foregoing  abstract. 

I. — Enough  has  been  stated  as  to  his  Ethical  Standard, 
the  Principle  of  Utility. 

11. — We  have  seen  his  Psychological  explanation  of  the 
Moral  Faculty,  as  a  growth  from  certain  elementary  feelings 
of  the  mind. 

He  has  also  discussed  extensively  the  Freedom  of  the 
Will,  maintaining  the  strict  causation  of  human  actions,  aud 
refuting  the  supposed  fatalistic  tendency  of  the  doctrine. 


300  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — ^BAILEY. 

He  believes,  as  we  have  seen,  in  Disinterested  impulses, 
but  traces  them  to  a  purely  self-regarding  origin. 

III. — He  does  not  give  any  formal  dissertation  on  Human 
Happiness,  but  indicates  many  of  its  important  conditions,  as 
in  the  remarks  cited  above,  p.  702.  In  the  chapter  of  the 
work  on  '  Liberty,'  entitled  Individuality,  he  illustrates  the 
great  importance  of  special  tastes,  and  urges  the  full  right  of 
each  person  to  the  indulgence  of  these  in  every  case  where 
they  do  not  directly  injure  others.  He  reclaims  against  the 
social  tyranny  prevailing  on  such  points  as  dress,  personal 
habits,  and  eccentricities. 

IV. — As  regards  the  Moral  Code,  he  would  repeal  the 
legal  and  moral  rule  that  makes  marriage  irrevocable.  He 
would  also  abolish  all  restraints  on  freedom  of  thought,  and 
on  Individuality  of  conduct,  qualified  as  above  stated. 

He  would  impose  two  new  moral  restraints.  He  con- 
siders that  every  parent  should  be  bound  to  provide  a  suit- 
able education  for  his  own  children.  Farther,  for  any  one  to 
bring  into  the  world  human  beings  without  the  means  of  sup- 
porting them,  or,  in  an  over-peopled  country,  to  produce 
children  in  such  number  as  to  depress  the  reward  of  labour 
by  competition,  he  regards  as  serious  offences, 

SAMUEL  BAILEY. 

Mr.  Samuel  Bailey  devotes  the  last  four  in  his  Third  Series 
of  *  Letters  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,'  to  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Moral  Sentiments,  or  the  feelings  inspired  in  us 
by  human  conduct.  He  first  sets  down  five  facts  in  the 
human  constitution,  in  which  moral  phenomena  originate — 

1.  Man  is  susceptible  of  pleasure  and  pain  of  various  kinds 
and.  degrees. 

2.  He  likes  and  dislikes  respectively  the  causes  of  them. 
fS.  He  desires   to  reciprocate  pleasure  and  pain  received, 

when  intentionally  given  by  other  sentient  beings. 

4.  He  himself  expects  such  reciprocation  from  his  fellows, 
coveting  it  in  the  one  case,  and  shunning  it  in  the  other. 

5.  He  feels,  under  certain  circumstances,  more  or  less 
sympathy  with  the  pleasures  and  pains  given  to  others,  ac- 
companied by  a  proportionate  desire  that  those  affections 
should  be  reciprocated  to  the  givers. 

These  rudimentary  afiections,  states  and  operations  of 
consciousness  [he  is  careful  to  note  that,  besides  feelings, 
intellectual  conditions  and  processes  are  involved  in  them] 


KUDIMENTARY   SUSCEPTIBILITIES   OF  THE  MIND.       301 

are  found  more  or  less  developed  in  all,  or  neavly  all  the 

human  race.  In  support  of  the  limitation  now  made,  he 
adduces  what  are  given  as  authentic  accounts  of  savages 
devoid  of  all  gratitude  and  fellow-feeling ;  and  then  goes  on  to 
trace  the  nature  and  development  of  moral  sentiment  from  the 
rudimentary  powers  and  susceptibilities  mentioned,  in  those 
that  do  possess  them.  In  doing  so,  he  follows  the  convenient 
mode  of  speech  that  takes  actions  for  the  objects  that  excite 
the  susceptibilities,  although,  in  reality,  the  objects  are  no 
other  than  human  beings  acting  in  particular  ways. 

The  feelings  he  supposes  to  be  modified  in  manner  or 
degree,  according  as  actions  are  (I)  done  by  ourselves  to 
others,  or  (2)  done  to  others  by  others,  or  (3)  done  to  others 
by  ourselves ;  i.e.,  according  as  we  ourselves  are  the  subjects, 
the  spectators,  or  doers  of  them. 

First,  then,  he  considers  our  feelings  in  regard  to  actions 
done  to  us  by  others,  and  the  more  carefully,  because  these 
lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  rest.  When  a  fellow -creature 
intentionally  contributes  to  our  pleasure,  we  feel  the  pleasure  ; 
we  feel  a  liking  to  the  person  intentionally  conferring  it,  and 
we  feel  an  inclination  to  give  him  pleasure  in  return.  The 
two  last  feelings — liking  and  inclination  to  reciprocate,  con- 
stitute the  simplest  form  of  moral  approbation  ;  in  the  contrary 
case,  dislike  and  resentment  give  the  rudimentary  form  of  moral 
disapprobation.  It  is  enough  to  excite  the  feelings,  that  the 
actions  are  merely  thought  to  be  done  by  the  person.  They 
are  moral  sentiments,  even  although  it  could  be  supposed 
that  there  were  no  other  kinds  of  actions  in  the  world  except 
actions  done  to  ourselves ;  but  they  are  moral  sentiments  in 
the  purely  selfish  form.  That,  for  moral  sentiment,  mere 
liking  and  disliking  must  be  combined  with  the  desire  to 
reciprocate  good  and  evil,  appears  on  a  comparison  of  our 
different  feelings  towards  animate  and  inanimate  causes  of 
pleasure  and  pain ;  there  being  towards  inanimate  objects  no 
desire  of  reciprocation.  To  a  first  objection,  that  the  violent 
sentiments,  arising  upon  actions  done  to  ourselves,  should  not 
get  the  temperate  designation  of  moral  approbation  and  dis- 
approbation, he  replies,  that  such  extremes  as  the  passions  of 
gratitude  and  resentment  must  yet  be  identified  in  their  origin 
with  our  cooler  feelings,  when  we  are  mere  spectators  or 
actors.  A  second  objection,  that  the  epithet  moral  is  inappli- 
cable to  sentiments  involving  purely  personal  feeling,  and 
destitute  of  sympathy,  he  answers,  by  remarking  that  the 
word  morale  in  philosophy,  should  not  eulogistically  be  op- 


302  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— BAILEY. 

posed  to  immoral,  but  should  be  beld  as  neutral,  and  to  mean 
*  relating  to  conduct,  whatever  that  conduct  may  be.*  Ho 
closes  the  first  head  with  the  observation,  that  in  savage  life 
the  violent  desire  of  reciprocation  is  best  seen;  generally, 
however,  as  he  gives  instances  to  show,  in  tbe  form  ol  revenge 
and  reciprocation  of  evil. 

In  the  second  place,  he  considers  our  feelings  when  we 
are  spectators  of  actions  done  to  others  by  others.  These 
form  the  largest  class  of  actions,  but  to  us  tliey  have  a  mean- 
ing, for  the  most  part  at  least,  only  as  they  have  an  analogy 
to  actions  done  to  ourselves.  The  variety  of  the  resulting 
feelings,  generally  less  intense  tlian  when  we  are  the  subjects 
of  the  actions,  is  illustrated  first  by  supposing  the  persons 
affected  to  be  those  we  love ;  in  this  case,  the  feelings  are 
analogous  to  those  already  mentioned,  and  they  may  be  even 
more  intense  than  when  we  ourselves  are  personally  affected. 
If  those  affected  are  indifferent  to  us,  our  feelings  are  less 
intense,  but  we  are  still  led  to  feel  as  before,  from  a  natural 
sympathy  with  other  men's  pains  and  pleasures — always  sup- 
posing the  sympathy  is  not  (as  often  happens)  otherwise 
counteracted  or  superseded ;  and  also  from  the  influence  ot 
association,  if  that,  too,  happen  not  to  be  countervailed.  Ot 
sympathy  for  human  beings  in  general,  he  remarks  that  a 
certain  measure  of  civilization  seems  required  to  bring  it 
properly  out,  and  he  cites  instances  to  prove  how  m.uch  it  is 
wanting  in  savages.  In  a  third  case,  where  the  persons 
affected  are  supposed  to  be  those  we  hate,  we  are  displeased 
when  they  are  made  to  rejoice,  and  pleased  when  they  suffer, 
unless  we  are  overcome  by  our  habitual  associations  with 
good  and  evil  actions.  Such  associations  weigh  least  with 
rude  and  savage  peoples,  but  even  the  most  civilized  nations 
disregard  them  in  times  of  war. 

He  takes  up,  in  the  third  place,  actions  done  by  ourselves 
to  others.  Here,  when  the  action  is  beneficent,  the  peculi- 
arity is  that  an  expectation  of  receiving  good  in  return  from 
our  neighbours  takes  the  place  of  a  desire  to  reciprocate  ;  we 
consider  ourselves  the  proper  object  of  grateful  thoughts,  &c., 
on  the  part  both  of  receiver  and  of  spectators.  We  are  affected 
with  the  gratification  of  a  benevolent  desire,  with  self-com- 
placency, and  with  undefined  hopes.  When  we  have  inflicted 
injury,  there  is  the  expectation  of  evil,  and  a  combination  of 
feelings  summed  up  in  the  word  Remorse.  But  Remorse, 
like  other  sentiments,  may  fail  in  the  absence  of  cultivatioa  of 
mind  or  under  special  circumstances. 


DIFFERENT  CLASSES   OF  ACTIONS.  303 

Having  considered  the  three  dififerent  kinds  of  actions 
Beparately,  he  next  remarks  that  the  sentiment  prevaihng  in 
each  case  must  be  liable  to  a  reflex  influence  from  the  other 
cases,  whereby  it  will  be  strengthened  or  intensified  ;  thus  we 
come  to  associate  certain  intensities  of  moral  sentiment  with 
certain  kinds  of  action,  by  whomsoever  or  to  whomsoever 
performed.  He  also  notes,  that  in  the  first  and  third  cases, 
as  well  as  in  the  second,  there  is  a  variation  of  the  sentiment, 
according  as  the  parties  afiected  are  friends,  neutrals,  or 
enemies.  Finally,  a  peculiar  and  important  modification  of 
the  sentiments  results  from  the  outward  manifestations  of 
them  called  forth  from  the  persons  directly  or  indirectly 
affected  by  actions.  Such  are  looks,  gestures,  tones,  words, 
or  actions,  being  all  eff'orts  to  gratify  the  natural  desire  of 
reciprocating  pleasure  or  pain.  Of  these  the  most  notable  are 
the  verbal  manifestations,  as  they  are  mostly  irrepressible,  and 
can  alone  always  be  resorted  to.  While  relieving  the  feelings, 
they  can  also  become  a  most  powerful,  as  they  are  often  the 
only,  instrument  of  reward  and  punishment.  Their  power  of 
giving  to  moral  sentiments  greater  precision,  and  of  acting 
upon  conduct  like  authoritative  precepts,  is  seen  in  greatest 
force  when  they  proceed  from  bodies  of  men,  whether  they  are 
regarded  as  signs  of  material  consequences  or  not.  He  ends 
this  part  of  the  subject  by  defending,  with  Butler,  the  place 
of  resentment  in  the  moral  constitution. 

He  proceeds  to  inquire  how  it  is  that  not  only 
the  perfection  of  moral  sentiment  that  would  apportion 
more  approbation  and  disapprobation  according  to  the 
real  tendencies  of  actions,  is  not  attained,  but  men's 
moral  feelings  are  not  seldom  in  extreme  contrariety 
with  the  real  effects  of  human  conduct.  First,  he  finds 
that  men,  from  partial  views,  or  momentarily,  or  from 
caprice,  may  bestow  their  sentiments  altogether  at  variance 
with  the  real  consequences  of  actions.  Next  there  is  the  diffi- 
culty, or  even  impossibility,  of  calculating  all  the  consequences 
far  and  near ;  whence  human  conduct  is  liable  to  be  appreciated 
on  whimsical  grounds  or  on  no  discernible  grounds  at  all, 
and  errors  in  moral  sentiment  arise,  which  it  takes  increased 
knowledge  to  get  rid  of.  In  the  third  place,  it  is  a  fact  that 
our  moral  sentiments  are  to  a  very  great  extent  derived  from 
tradition,  while  the  approbation  and  disapprobation  may  have 
originally  been  wrongly  applied.  The  force  of  tradition  he 
illustrates  by  supposing  the  case  of  a  patriarchal  family,  and 
he  cannot  too  strongly  represent  its  strength  in  overcoming 


304  ETHICA.L  SYSTEMS — BAILET. 

or  at  least  struggling  against  natural  feeling.  Tlio  anthorita- 
tive  precept  of  a  superior  may  also  make  actions  be  approved 
or  disapproved,  not  because  they  are  directly  perceived  or 
even  traditionally  held  to  be  beneficial  or  injurious,  but  solely 
because  they  are  commanded  or  prohibited.  Lastly,  he  dwells 
upon  the  intiuence  of  superstition  in  perverting  moral  senti- 
ment, finding,  however,  that  it  operates  most  strongly  in  the 
way  of  creating  false  virtues  and  false  vices  and  crimes. 

These  circumstances,  explaining  the  want  of  conformity  in 
our  moral  sentiments  to  the  real  tendencies  of  actions,  he 
next  employs  to  account  for  discrepancies  in  moral  sentiment 
between  diff'erent  communities.  Having  given  examples  of 
such  discrepancies,  he  supposes  the  case  of  two  families, 
endowed  with  the  rudimentary  qualities  mentioned  at  the 
beginning,  but  placed  in  different  circumstances.  Under  the 
influence  of  dissimilar  physical  conditions,  and  owing  to  the 
dissimilar  personal  idiosyncracies  of  the  families,  and  espe- 
cially of  their  chiefs,  there  will  be  left  few  points  of  complete 
analogy  between  them  in  the  first  generation,  and  in  course 
of  time  they  will  become  two  races  exceedingly  unlike  in 
moral  sentiment,  as  in  other  respects.  He  warns  strongly 
against  making  moral  generalizations  except  under  analogous 
circumstances  of  knowledge  and  civilization.  Most  men  have 
the  rudimentary  feelings,  bat  there  is  no  end  to  the  variety  of 
their  intensity  and  direction.  As  a  highest  instance  of  dis- 
crepant moral  sentiment,  he  cites  the  fact  that,  in  our  own 
country,  a  moral  stigma  is  still  attached  to  intellectual  error 
by  many  people,  and  even  by  men  of  cultivation. 

He  now  comes  to  the  important  question  of  the  test  or 
criterion  that  is  to  determine  which  of  these  diverse  sentiments 
are  right  and  which  wrong,  since  they  cannot  all  be  right 
from  the  mere  fact  of  their  existence,  or  because  they  are  felt 
by  the  subjects  of  them  to  be  right,  or  believed  to  be  in  con- 
sonance with  the  injunctions  of  superiors,  or  to  be  held  also 
by  other  people.  The  foregoing  review  of  the  geiiesis  of 
moral  sentiments  suggests  a  direct  and  simple  answer.  As 
they  arise  from  likings  and  dislikings  of  actions  that  cause,  or 
tend  to  cause,  pleasure  and  pain,  the  first  thing  is  to  see  that 
the  likings  and  dislikings  are  well  founded.  Where  this  does 
not  at  once  appear,  examination  of  the  real  effects  of  actions 
must  be  resorted  to  ;  and,  in  dubious  cases,  men  in  genera], 
when  unprejudiced,  allow  this  to  be  the  natural  test  for 
applying  moral  approbation  and  disapprobation.  If,  indeed, 
the  end  of  moral   sentiment  is  to  promote  or  to  prevent  the 


THE  CRITERION  OF  CONSEQUENCES  VINDICATED.      305 

actions,  there  can  be  no  better  way  of  attaining  that  end. 
And,  as  a  fact,  almost  all  moralists  virtually  adopt  it  on  occa- 
sion, though  often  unconsciously ;  the  greatest  happiness- 
principle  is  denounced  by  its  opponents  as  a  mischievous 
doctrine. 

The  objection  that  the  criterion  of  consequences  is  difficult 
of  application,  and  thus  devoid  of  practical  utility,  he  rebuts 
by  asserting  that  the  difficulty  is  not  greater  than  in  other 
cases.  We  have  simply  to  follow  effects  as  far  as  we  can ; 
and  it  is  by  its  ascertainable,  not  by  its  unascertainable,  con- 
sequences, that  we  pronounce  an  action,  as  we  pronounce  an 
article  of  food  or  a  statute,  to  be  good  or  bad.  The  main 
effects  of  most  actions  are  already  very  well  ascertained,  and 
the  consequences  to  human  happiness,  when  unascertainable, 
are  of  no  value.  If  the  test  were  honestly  applied,  ethical 
discrepancies  would  tend  gradually  to  disappear. 

He  starts  another  objection : — The  happiness-test  is  good 
as  far  as  it  goes,  but  we  also  approv^e  and  disapprove  of 
actions  as  they  are  just  or  generous,  or  the  contrary,  and  with 
no  reference  to  happiness  or  uuhappiness.  In  answering  this 
argument,  he  contines  himself  to  the  case  of  Justice.  To  be 
morally  approved,  a  just  action  must  in  itself  be  peculiarly 
pleasant  or  agreeable,  irrespective  of  its  other  effects,  which 
are  left  out :  for  on  no  theory  can  pleasantness  or  agreeable- 
ness  be  dissociated  from  moral  approbation.  Now,  as  Hap- 
piness is  but  a  general  appellation  for  all  the  agreeable 
affections  of  our  nature,  and  unable  to  exist  except  in  the 
shape  of  some  agreeable  emotion  or  combinations  of  agreeable 
emotions ;  the  just  action  that  is  morally  commendable,  as 
giving  naturalh  and  directly  a  peculiar  kind  of  pleasure 
independent  of  any  other  consequences,  only  produces  one 
species  of  those  pleasant  states  of  mind  that  are  ranged  under 
the  genus  happiness.  The  test  of  justice  therefore  coincides 
with  the  happiness-test.  But  he  does  not  mean  that  we  are 
actually  affected  thus,  in  doing  just  actions,  nor  refuse  to 
accept  justice  as  a  criterion  of  actions ;  only  in  the  one  case 
he  maintains  that,  whatever  association  may  have  effected, 
the  just  act  must  originally  have  been  approved  for  the  sake 
of  its  consequences,  and,  in  the  other,  that  justice  is  a  criterion, 
because  proved  over  and  over  again  to  be  a  most  beneficial 
principle. 

After  remarking  that  the  Moral  Sentiments  of  praise  and 
blame  may  enter  into  accidental  connection  with  other  feelings 
of  a  distinct  character,  like  pity,  wonder,  &c.,  he  criticises  the 


306  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— BAILEY. 

use  of  the  word  Utility  in  Morals.  He  avoids  the  term  as 
objectionable,  because  the  useful  in  common  language  does 
not  mean  what  is  directly  productive  of  happiness,  but  only 
what  is  instrumental  in  its  production,  and  in  most  cases 
customarily  or  recurrently  instrumental.  A  blanket  is  of 
continual  utility  to  a  poor  wretch  through  a  severe  winter, 
but  the  benevolent  act  of  the  donor  is  not  termed  useful, 
because  it  confers  the  benefit  and  ceases.  Utility  is  too  narrow 
to  comprehend  all  the  actions  that  deserve  approbation.  We 
want  an  uncorapounded  substantive  expressing  the  two  attri- 
butes of  cunferring  and  conducing  to  happiness ;  as  a  descrip- 
tive phrase,  producing  happiness  is  as  succinct  as  any.  The 
term  useful  is,  besides,  associated  with  the  notion  of  what  is 
serviceable  in  the  aiiairs  and  objects  of  common  life,  whence 
the  philosophical  doctrine  that  erects  utility  as  its  banner  is 
apt  to  be  deemed,  by  the  unthinking,  low,  mean,  and  deroga- 
tory to  human  nature  and  aspirations,  although  its  real 
import  is  wholly  free  from  such  a  reproach.  Notwithstanding, 
therefore,  the  convenience  of  the  term,  and  because  the  asso- 
ciations connected  with  it  are  not  easily  eradicated,  whilst  most 
of  the  trite  objections  to  the  true  doctrine  of  morals  turn  upon 
its  narrow  meanings,  he  thinks  it  should  be  as  much  as  pos- 
sible disused. 

Mr.  Bailey  ends  by  remarking  of  the  common  question, 
whether  ooi*  moral  sentiments  have  their  origin  in  Reason,  or 
in  a  separate  power  called  the  Moral  Sense,  that  in  his  view 
of  man's  sensitive  and  intellectual  nature  it  is  easily  settled. 
He  recognizes  the  feelings  that  have  been  enumerated,  and,  in 
connexion  with  them,  intellectual  processes  of  discerning  and 
inferring ;  for  which,  if  the  Moral  Sense  and  Reason  are  meant 
as  anything  more  than  unnecessary  general  expressions,  they 
are  merely  fictitious  entities.  So,  too.  Conscience,  whether 
as  identified  with  the  moral  sense,  or  put  for  sensibility  in 
regard  to  the  moral  qualities  of  one's  own  mind,  is  a  mere 
personification  of  certain  mental  states.  The  summary  of 
Bailey's  doctrine  falls  within  the  two  first  heads. 

I. — The  Standard  is  the  production  of  Happiness.  [It 
should  be  remarked,  however,  that  happiness  is  a  wider  aim 
tlan  morality  ;  although  all  virtue  tends  to  produce  happiness, 
very  much  that  produces  happiness  is  not  virtue.] 

II. — The  Moral  Faculty,  while  involving  processes  of  dis- 
cernment and  inference,  is  mainly  composed  of  certain  senti- 
ments, the  chief  being  Reciprocity  and  Sympathy.  [These  are 
undoubtedly  tiie  largest  ingredients  in  a  mature,  self-acting 


.,  HAPPINESS   NOT   THE   PROXIMATE   END.  307 

conscience ;  and  the  way  that  they  contribute  to  the  pro- 
duction of  moral  sentiment  deserved  to  be,  as  it  has  been,  well 
handled.  The  great  omission  in  Mr.  Bailey's  account  is  the 
absence  of  the  element  of  auihm-itij,  whicU  is  the  main  instru- 
ment in  impartmg  to  us  the  sense  of  obligation.] 

HEPtBEPtT  SPENCER. 

Mr.  Spencer's  ethical  doctrines  are,  as  yet,  nowhere  fully 
expressed.  They  form  part  of  the  more  general  doctrine  of 
Evolution  which  he  is  engaged  in  working  out ;  and  they  are 
at  present  to  be  gathered  only  fi'om  scattered  passages.  It  is 
true  that,  in  his  tirst  work,  Social  Statics,  he  presented  what 
he  then  regarded  as  a  tolerably  complete  view  of  one  division 
of  Morals.  But  without  abandoning  this  view,  he  now  regards 
it  as  inadequate — more  especially  in.  respect  of  its  basis. 

!Mi\  Spencer's  conception  of  Morality  as  a  science,  is  con- 
veyed in  the  following  passages  in  a  letter  written  by  him  to 
Mr.  Mill;  repudiating  the  title  anti-utilitarian,  which  Mr. 
Mill  had  applied  to  him  :  — 

'  The  note  in  question  greatly  startled  me  by  implicitly 
classing  me  with  Anti- utilitarians.  I  have  never  regarded 
myself  as  an  Anti-utilitarian.  My  dissent  from  the  doctrine 
of  Utility  as  commonly  understood,  concerns  not  the  objecD 
to  be  reached  by  men^  but  the  method  of  reaching  it.  Wnile 
I  admit  that  happiness  is  the  ultimate  end  to  be  contem- 
plated, I  do  not  admit  tbat  it  should  be  the  proximate  end. 
The  Expediency- Philosophy  having  concluded  that  happiness 
•  is  a  thing  to  be  achieved,  assumes  that  Morality  has  no  other 
business  than  empirically  to  generalize  the  results  of  conduct, 
aad  to  supply  for  the  guidance  of  conduct  nothing  more  than 
its  empirical  generalizations. 

'  Bat  the  view  for  which  I  contend  is,  that  Morality  prtr- 
perly  so  called—  the  science  of  right  conduct — has  lor  its 
object  to  determine  hou)  and  ivliy  certain  modes  of  conduct 
are  detrimental,  and  certain  other  modes  beneficial.  These 
good  and  bad  results  cannot  be  accidental,  but  must  be  neces- 
sary consequences  of  the  constitution  of  things ;  and  I  con- 
ceive it  to  be  the  business  of  Moral  Science  to  deduce,  from 
the  laws  of  life  and  the  conditions  of  existence,  what  kinds  of 
action  necessarily  tend  to  produce  happiness,  and  what  kinds 
to  produce  unhappiaess.  Having  done  this,  its  deductions 
are  to  be  recognized  as  laws  of  conduct ;  and  are  to  be  con- 
formed to  irrespective  of  a  direct  estimation  of  happiness  or 
misery. 


308  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — SPENCER. 

*  Perhaps  an  analogy  will  most  clearly  show  my  meaning. 
During  its  early  stages,  planetary  Astronomy  consisted  of 
nothing  more  than  accumulated  observations  respecting  the 
positions  and  motions  of  the  sun  and  planets;  from  which 
accumulated  observations  it  came  by  and  by  to  be  empirically 
predicted,  with  an  approach  to  truth,  that  certain  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  would  have  certain  positions  at  certain  times. 
But  the  modern  science  of  planetary  Astronomy  consists  of 
deductions  from  the  law  of  gravitation — deductions  showing 
why  the  celestial  bodies  necessarily  occupy  certain  places 
at  certain  times.  Now,  the  kind  of  relation  which  thus  exists 
between  ancient  and  modern  Astronomy,  is  analogous  to  the 
kind  of  relation  which,  I  conceive,  exists  between  the  Expedi- 
ency-Morality, and  Moral  Science  properly  so-called.  And  the 
objection  which  I  have  to  the  current  UtiUtarianism,  is,  that  it 
recognizes  no  more  developed  form  of  morality — does  not  see 
that  it  has  reached  but  the  initial  stage  of  Moral  Science. 

*  To  make  my  position  fully  understood,  it  seems  needful 
to  add  that,  corresponding  to  the  fundamental  propositions  of 
a  developed  Moral  Science,  there  have  been,  and  still  are, 
developing  in  the  race,  certain  fundamental  moral  intuitions ; 
and  that,  though  these  moral  intuitions  are  the  results  of 
accumulated  experiences  of  Utility,  gradually  organized  and 
inherited,  they  have  come  to  be  quite  independent  of  con- 
scious experience.  Just  in  the  same  way  that  I  believe 
the  intuition  of  space,  possessed  by  any  living  individual,  to 
have  arisen  from  organized  and  consolidated  experiences  of  all 
antecedent  individuals  who  bequeathed  to  him  their  slowly- 
developed  nervous  organizations — just  as  I  believe  that  this 
intuition,  requiring  only  to  be  made  definite  and  complete  by 
personal  experiences,  has  practically  become  a  form  of  thought, 
apparently  quite  independent  of  experience  ;  so  do  I  believe 
that  the  experiences  of  utility  organized  and  consolidated 
through  all  past  generations  of  the  human  race,  have  been 
producing  corresponding  nervous  modifications,  which,  by 
continued  transmission  and  accumulation,  have  become  in 
us  certain  faculties  of  moral  intuition — certain  emotions  re- 
sponding to  right  and  wrong  conduct,  which  have  no  ap- 
parent basis  in  the  individual  experiences  of  utility.  I  also 
hold  that  just  as  the  space-intuition  responds  to  the  exact 
demonstrations  of  Geometry,  and  has  its  rough  conclusions 
interpreted  and  verified  by  them ;  so  will  moral  intuitions 
respond  to  the  demonstrations  of  Moral  Science,  and  will  haA'« 
their  rough  conclusions  interpreted  and  verified  by  them.' 


MOEAL   INTUITIOXS    A.TTAINED   BY   DEVELOPMENT.      309 

The  relations  between  tbe  Expediency-Morality,  and  Moral 
Science,  conceived  by  Mr.  Spencer  to  be,  the  one  transitional, 
and  tbe  other  ultimate,  are  farther  explained  in  the  following 
passage  from  his  essay  on  'Prison-Ethics' : — 

'  Progressing  civilization,  which  is  of  necessity  a  succession 
of  compromises  between  old  and  new,  requires  a  perpetual 
re-adjustment  of  the  compromise  between  the  ideal  and  the 
practicable  in  social  arrangements :  to  which  end  both  ele- 
ments of  the  compromise  must  be  kept  in  view.  If  it  is  true 
that  pure  rectitude  prescribes  a  system  of  things  far  too  good 
for  men  as  they  are ;  it  is  not  less  true  that  mere  expediency 
does  not  of  itself  tend  to  establish  a  system  of  things  any 
better  than  that  which  exists.  While  absolute  morality  owes 
to  expediency  the  checks  which  prevent  it  Irom  rushing  into 
Utopian  absurdities  ;  expediency  is  indebted  to  absolute 
morality  for  ail  stimulus  to  improvement.  Granted  that  we 
are  chiefly  interested  in  ascertaining  what  is  relatively  right ; 
it  still  follows  that  we  must  first  consider  what  is  absolutely 
rigid;  since  the  one  conception  presupposes  the  other.  That 
is  to  say,  though  we  must  ever  aim  to  do  what  is  best  for  the 
present  times,  yet  we  must  ever  bear  in  mind  what  is  ab- 
stractedly best ;  so  that  the  changes  we  make  may  be  towards 
it,  and  not  av:ay  from  it.' 

By  the  word  ahsolute  as  thus  applied,  Mr.  Spencer  does 
not  mean  to  iniply  a  right  and  wrong  existing  apart  from 
Humanity  and  its  relations.  Agreeing  with  Utilitarians  in 
the  belief  that  happiness  is  the  end,  and  that  the  conduct 
called  moral  is  simply  the  best  means  of  attaining  it,  he  of 
course  does  not  assert  that  there  is  a  mcrality  which  is  absolute 
in  the  sense  of  being  true  out  of  relation  to  human  existence. 
By  absolute  morality  as  distinguished  from  relative,  he  here 
means  the  mode  of  conduct  which,  under  the  conditions  arising 
from  social  union,  must  be  pursued  to  achieve  the  greatest 
weliare  of  each  and  all.  He  holds,  that  the  laws  of  Life, 
physiologically  considered,  being  fixed,  it  necessarily  follows 
that  when  a  number  of  individuals  have  to  live  in  social 
union,  which  necessarily  involves  fixity  of  conditions  in  the 
shape  of  mutual  interfereriCes  and  limitations,  there  result 
certain  fixed  principles  by  which  conduct  must  be  restricted, 
belore  the  greatest  sum  of  happiness  can  be  achieved.  These 
principles  constitute  what  Mr.  Spencer  distinguishes  as  abso- 
lute Morality ;  and  the  absolutely  moi  al  man  is  the  man 
who  conforms  to  these  prii. copies,  not  by  external  coercion 
nor  self- coercion,  but  who  acts  them  out  spontaneously. 


SIO  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS  — SPENCER. 

To  be  fully  understood,  this  conception  must  be  taken  along 
with  the  general  theory  of  Evolution.  Mr.  Spencer  argues 
that  all  things  whatever  are  inevitably  tending  towards  equi- 
librium ;  and  that  consequently  the  progress  of  mankind 
cannot  cease  until  there  is  equilibrium  between  tlie  human 
constitution  and  the  conditions  of  human  existence.  Or,  as 
he  argues  in  First  Frl'iiciples  (Second  Edition,  p.  512), 
'The  adaptation  of  man's  nature  to  the  conditions  of  his 
existence  cannot  cease  until  the  internal  forces  which  we 
know  as  feelings  are  in  equilibrium  with  the  external  forces 
they  encounter.  And  the  establishment  of  this  equilibrium,  is 
the  arrival  at  a  state  of  human  nature  and  social  organization, 
such  that  the  individual  has  no  desires  but  those  which  may 
be  satisfied  without  exceeding  his  proper  sphere  of  action, 
while  society  maintains  no  restraints  but  those  which  the 
individual  voluntarily  respects.  The  progressive  extension  of 
the  liberty  of  citizens,  and  the  reciprocal  removal  of  political 
restrictions,  are  the  steps  by  which  we  advance  towards  this 
state.  And  the  ultimate  abolition  of  all  limits  to  the  freedom 
of  each,  save  those  imposed  by  the  like  freedom  of  all,  must 
result  from  the  complete  equilibration  between  man's  desires 
and  the  conduct  necessitated  by  surrounding  conditions.' 

The  conduct  proper  to  such  a  state,  which  Mr,  Spencer 
thus  conceives  to  be  the  subject-matter  of  Moral  Science, 
truly  so-called,  he  proposes,  in  the  Prospectus  to  his 
System  of  Fhilusophy,  to  treat  under  the  following  heads. 

Personal  Mokals. — The  principles  of  private  conduct- 
physical,  intellectual,  moral,  and  religious—  that  follow  from  the 
conditions  to  complete  individual  life ;  or,  what  is  the  same 
thing,  those  modes  of  piivate  action  which  must  result  from  the 
eventual  equilibration  of  internal  desu'es  and  external  needs. 

Justice. — The  mutual  limitation  of  men's  actions  neces- 
sitated by  their  co- existence  as  units  of  a  society — limitations, 
the  perfect  observance  of  which  constitutes  that  state  of 
equilibrium  forming  the  goal  of  political  progress. 

Negative  Beneficence. — Those  secondary  limitations, 
similarly  necessitated,  which,  though  less  important  and 
not  cognizable  by  law,  are  yet  requisite  to  prevent  mutual 
destruciion  of  happiness  in  various  indirect  ways :  in  other 
words — those  minor  selt-restraints  dictated  by  what  may  be 
called  passive  sympathy. 

PosTTiVi  Beneficence. — Comprehending  all  modes  of  con- 
duct, dictated  by  active  sympathy,  which  imply  pleasure  in 
giving   pleasui'e — modes   ot    conduct   that   social   adaptation 


CONTINENTAL   MORALISTS.  311 

lias  induced  and  must  render  ever  more  general ;  and  which, 
in  becoming  universal,  must  fill  to  the  full  the  possible  mea- 
sure of  human  happiness. 

This  completes  the  long  succession  of  British  moralists 
during  the  three  last  centuries.  It  has  been  possible,  and 
even  necessary,  to  present  them  thus  in  an  unbroken  line, 
because  the  insular  movement  in  ethical  philosophy  has  been 
hardly,  if  at  all,  affected  by  anything  done  abroad.  In  the 
earlier  part  of  the  modern  period,  little  of  any  kind  was  done 
in  ethics  by  the  great  continental  thinkers.  Descartes  has 
only  a  few  allusions  to  the  subject;  the  'Ethica'  of  Spinoza 
is  chiefly  a  work  of  speculative  philosophy ;  Leibnitz  has  no 
systematic  treatment  of  moral  questions.  The  case  is  very 
different  in  the  new  German  philosophy  since  the  time  of 
Kant;  besides  Kant  himself,  Fichte,  Hegel,  Schleiermacher, 
and  many  later  and  contemporary  thinkers  having  devoted  a 
large  amount  of  attention  to  practical  philosophy.  But  unless 
it  be  Kant — and  he  not  to  any  great  extent — none  of  these  lias 
influenced  the  later  attempts  at  ethical  speculation  amongst 
ourselves :  nor,  again  with  the  exception  of  Kant,  are  we  as 
yet  in  a  position  properly  to  deal  with  them.  One  reason  for 
proceeding  to  expound  the  ethical  system  of  the  founder  of 
the  later  German  philosophy,  without  regard  to  his  successors, 
lies  in  the  fact  that  he  stood,  on  the  practical  side,  in  as 
definite  a  relation  to  the  English  moralists  of  last  century,  as, 
in  his  speculative  pliilosophy,  to  Locke  and  Hume. 

IMMANUEL  KANT.  [1724-1804.] 
The  ethical  writings  of  Kant,  in  the  order  of  their  appear- 
ance, are — Foundation  for  the  Metaplujsic  of  Morals  (1785); 
Critique  of  the  Practical  Reason  (1788)  ;  Metaphysic  of  Morals 
(1797,  in  two  parts — (1)  Doctrine  of  Right  or  Jurisprudence, 
(2)  Doctrine  of  Virtue  or  Ethics  proper).  The  third  work 
contains  the  details  of  his  system  ;  the  general  theory  is  pre- 
sented in  the  two  others.  Of  these  we  select  for  analysis  the 
earlier,  containing,  as  it  does,  in  less  artificial  form,  an  ampler 
discussion  of  the  fundamental  questions  of  morals ;  but 
towards  the  end  it  must  be  supplemented,  in  regard  to  certain 
characteristic  doctrines,  from  the  second,  in  some  respects 
more  developed,  work.* 

*  For  help  in  understanding  Kant's  peculiar  phraseology  and  general 
point  of  view,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  short  exposition  of  his  Specu- 
lative Philosophy  in  Appendix  B. 


312  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS— KANT. 

In  the  introduction  to  the  Metaphjsic  of  Morals,  Kant 
distinguishes  between  the  empirical  and  the  rational  mode 
of  treating  Ethics.  He  announces  his  intention  to  depart 
from  the  common  plan  of  mixing  up  the  two  together,  and  to 
attempt  for  once  to  set  forth  the  ])ure  moral  philosophy  that 
is  implied  even  in  the  vulgar  ideas  of  duty  and  moral  law. 
Because  a  moral  law  means  an  absolute  necessity  laid  on  all 
rational  beings  whatever,  its  foundation  is  to  be  sought,  not 
in  human  nature  or  circumstances,  but  d.  priori  in  the  con- 
ception of  pure  reason.  The  most  universal  precept  founded 
on  mere  experience  is  only  a  practical  rule,  and  never  a  moral 
law.  A  purely  rational  moral  philosophy,  or  Metaphysic  of 
Morals,  will  serve  the  double  end  of  meeting  a  speculative 
requirement,  and  of  furnishing  the  only  true  norm  of  practice. 
It  investigates  the  idea  and  principles  of  a  potentially  pure 
Will,  instead  of  the  acts  and  conditions  of  human  volition  as 
known  from  psychology.  Not  a  complete  Metaphysic  of 
Morals,  however,  (which  would  be  a  Critique  of  the  pure 
Practical  Reason),  but  merely  a  foundation  for  such  will  be 
given.  The  supreme  principle  of  morality  is  to  be  established, 
apart  from  detailed  application.  First,  common  notions  will 
be  analyzed  in  order  to  get  at  this  highest  principle  ;  and 
then,  when  the  principle  has  been  sought  out,  they  will  be 
returned  upon  by  way  of  synthesis. 

In  the  first  of  the  three  main  sections  of  the  work,  he 
makes  the  pass  ge  from  Common  Rational  Knowledge  of 
Morals  to  Philosophical.  Nothing  in  the  world,  he  begins, 
can  without  qualification  be  called  good,  except  Will.  Qua- 
lities of  temperament,  like  courage,  &c.,  gifts  of  fortune,  like 
wealth  and  power,  are  good  only  with  reference  to  a  good 
will.  As  to  a  good  will,  when  it  is  really  such,  the  circum- 
stance that  it  can,  or  cannot,  be  executed  does  not  matter;  its 
value  is  independent  of  the  utility  or  fruitlessness  of  it. 

This  idea  of  the  absolute  worth  of  mere  Will,  though  it  is 
allowed  even  by  the  vulgar  understanding,  he  seeks  to  estab- 
lish beyond  dispute,  by  an  argument  from  the  natural  suhjec- 
tiun  of  Will  to  Reason.  In  a  being  well- organized,  if  Con- 
servation or  Happiness  were  the  grand  aim,  such  subjection 
would  be  a  great  mistake.  When  Instinct  could  do  the  work 
far  better  and  more  surely.  Reason  should  have  been  deprived 
of  all  practical  function.  Discontent,  in  fact,  rather  than 
happiness  comes  of  pursuit  of  mere  enjoyment  by  rational 
calculation  ;  and  to  make  light  of  the  part  contributed  by 
Reason  to  happiness,  is  really  to  make  out  that  it  exists  fo 


NOTHING  GOOD  EXCEPT  WILL.  313 

nobler  purpose.  But  now,  since  Reason  is  a  practical  faculty 
and  governs  the  will,  its  function  can  only  be  to  produce  a  Will 
good  in  itself.  Such  a  Will,  if  not  the  only  good,  is  certainly 
the  highest;  and  happiness,  unattainable  by  Reason  as  a 
primary  aim,  and  subject  in  this  life  altogether  to  much  limi- 
tation, is  to  be  sought  only  in  the  contentment  that  arises 
from  the  attainment  by  Reason  of  its  true  aim,  at  the  sacrifice 
often  of  many  a  natural  inclination. 

He  proceeds  to  develop  this  conception  of  a  Will  in  itself 
good  and  estimable,  by  dealing  with  the  commonly  received 
ideas  of  Duty.  Leaving  aside  profitable  actions  that  are  plain 
violations  of  duty,  and  also  actioua  conformed  to  duty,  but, 
■while  not  prompted  directly  by  nature,  done  from  some 
special  inclination — in  which  case  it  is  easy  to  distinguish 
whether  the  action  is  done  from  duty  or  from  self-interest; 
he  considers  those  more  diSicalt  cases  where  the  same  action 
is  at  once  duty,  and  prompted  by  direct  natural  inclination. 
In  all  such,  whether  it  be  duty  of  self-preservation,  of  bene- 
volence, of  securing  one's  own  happiness  (this  last  a  duty, 
because  discontent  and  the  pressure  of  care  may  easily  lead 
to  the  transgression  of  other  duties),  he  lays  it  down  that 
the  action  is  not  allowed  to  have  true  moral  value,  unless 
done  in  the  abeyance  or  absence  of  the  natural  inclination 
prompting  to  it.  A  second  position  is,  that  the  moral  value 
of  an  action  done  from  duty  lies  not  in  the  intention  of  it,  but 
in  the  maxim  that  determines  it;  not  in  the  object,  but  in  the 
principle  of  Volition.  That  is  to  say,  in  action  done  out  of 
regard  to  duty,  the  will  must  be  determined  by  its  formal  a 
priori  principle,  not  being  determined  by  any  material  d 
pisieriori  motive.  A  third  position  follows  then  from  the 
other  two ;  Duty  is  the  necessity  of  an  action  out  of  respect 
for  Law.  Towards  an  object  there  may  be  inclination,  and 
this  inclination  may  be  matter  for  approval  or  liking ;  but  it 
is  Law  only — the  ground  and  not  the  effect  of  Volition, 
bearing  down  inclination  rather  than  serving  it — that  can 
inspire  Respect  When  inclination  and  motives  are  both 
excluded,  nothing  remains  to  determine  Will,  except  Law 
objectively;  and,  subjectively,  pure  respect  for  a  law  of  prac- 
tice— i.e.,  the  maxim  to  follow  such  a  law,  even  at  the  sacrifice 
of  every  inclination.  The  conception  of  Law-in-itself  alone 
determining  the  will,  is,  then,  the  surpassing  good  that  id 
called  moral,  which  exists  already  in  a  man  before  his  action 
has  any  result.  Conformity  to  Law  in  general,  all  special 
motive  to  follow  any  single  law  being  excluded,  remains  as 
14 


314  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS  — KANT. 

the  one  principle  of  Volition :  I  am  never  to  act  otherwise, 
than  so  as  to  be  able  also  to  wish  that  my  maxim  (i.e.,  my 
subjective  principle  of  volition)  should  become  a  universal 
law.  This  is  what  he  finds  implied  in  the  common  notions  of 
Duty. 

Having  illustrated  at  length  this  reading,  in  regard  to  the 
duty  of  keeping  a  promise,  he  contrasts,  at  the  close  of  the 
section,  the  all  but  infallibility  of  common  human  reason  in 
practice  with  its  helplessness  in  speculation.  Notwithstanding, 
it  finds  itself  unable  to  settle  the  contending  claims  of  Reason 
and  Inclination,  and  so  is  driven  to  devise  a  practical  philo- 
sophy, owing  to  the  rise  of  a  '  Natural  Dialectic '  or  tendency 
to  refine  upon  the  strict  laws  of  duty  in  order  to  make  them 
more  pleasant.  But,  as  in  the  speculative  region,  the  Dialectic 
cannot  be  properly  got  rid  of  without  a  complete  Critique  of 
Reason. 

In  Section  II.  the  passage  is  made  from  the  popular  moral 
philosophy  thus  arising  to  the  metaphysic  of  morals.  He  denies 
that  the  notion  of  duty  that  has  been  taken  above  from  common 
sage  is  empirical.  It  is  proved  not  to  be  such  from  the  very  as- 
sertions of  philosophers  that  men  always  act  from  more  or  less 
refined  self-love ;  assertions  that  are  founded  upon  the  diffi- 
culty of  proving  that  acts  most  apparently  conformed  to  duty 
are  really  such.  The  fact  is,  no  act  can  be  proved  by  expe- 
rience to  be  absolutely  moral,  i.e.,  done  solely  from  regard  to 
duty,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  inclination ;  and  therefore  to 
concede  that  morality  and  duty  are  ideas  to  be  had  from 
experience,  is  the  surest  way  to  get  rid  of  them  altogether. 
Duty,  and  respect  for  its  law,  are  not  to  be  preserved  at  all, 
unless  Reason  is  allowed  to  lay  absolute  injunctions  on  the 
will,  wiiatever  experience  says  of  their  non-execution.  How, 
indeed,  is  experience  to  disclose  a  moral  law,  that,  in  applying 
to  all  rational  beings  as  well  as  men,  and  to  men  only  as 
rational,  must  originate  a  priori  in  pure  (practical)  Reason? 
Instead  of  yielding  the  principles  of  morality,  empirical  exam- 
ples of  moral  conduct  have  rather  to  be  judged  by  these. 

All  supreme  principles  of  morality,  that  are  genuine,  must 
rest  on  pure  Reason  solely ;  and  the  mistake  of  the  popular 
practical  philosophies  in  vogue,  one  and  all — whether  advanc- 
ing as  their  principle  a  special  determination  of  human  nature, 
or  Perfection,  or  Happiness,  or  Moral  Feeling,  or  Fear  of  God, 
or  a  little  of  this  and  a  little  of  that — is  that  there  has  been 
no  previous  consideration  whether  the  principles  of  morality 
are  to  be  sought  for  in  our  empirical  knowledge  of  human 


MOEALITY  RESTS   ON  PUEE   REASON.  315 

nature  at  all.  Such  consideration  would  have  shown  them  to 
be  altogether  a  priori^  and  would  have  appeared  as  a  ^pure 
practical  philosophy  or  metaphysic  of  morals  (upon  the  com- 
pletion of  which  any  popularizing  might  have  waited),  kept 
free  from  admixture  of  Anthropolooy,  Theology,  Physics, 
Hyperphysics,  &c.,  and  setting  forth  the  conception  of  Duty 
as  purely  rational,  without  the  confusion  of  empirical  motives. 
To  a  metaphysic  of  this  kind,  Kant  is  now  to  ascend  from  the 
popular  philosophy,  v.ith  its  st  -ck-in-trade  of  single  instances, 
following  out  the  practical  faculty  of  Reason  from  the  general 
rules  determining  it,  to  the  point  where  the  conception  of 
Duty  emerges. 

While  things  in  nature  work  according  to  laws,  rational 
beings  alone  can  act  according*  to  a  conceived  idea  of  law3, 
i,e.^  to  principles.  This  is  to  have  a  Will,  or,  what  is  the 
same,  Practical  Reason,  reason  being  required  in  deducing 
actions  from  laws.  If  the  Will  follows  Reason  exactly  and 
without  fail,  actions  objectively  necessary  are  necessary  also 
subjectively;  if,  through  subjective  conditions  (inclinations, 
&c.),  the  Will  does  not  follow  Reason  inevitably,  objectively 
necessarj^  actions  become  subjectively  contingent,  and  towards 
the  objective  laws  the  attitude  of  the  will  is  no  longer  unfailing 
choice,  but  constraint.  A  constraining  objective  principle 
mentally  represented,  is  a  command ;  its  formula  is  called 
Imjjerafive,  for  which  the  expression  is  Ought.  A  will  perfectly 
good — i.e.,  subjectively  determined  to  follow  the  objective 
laws  of  good  as  soon  as  conceived — knows  no  Ought.  Impera- 
tives are  only  for  a.n  imperfect,  such  as  is  the  human,  will. 
Hi/pothetical  Imperatives  represent  the  practical  necessity  of 
an  action  as  a  means  to  an  end,  being  problematical  or  assertory 
principles,  according  as  the  end  is  possible  or  real.  Categorical 
Imperatives  represent  an  action  as  objectively  necessary  for 
itself,  and  connt  as  a])ocleictical  principles. 

To  the  endless  number  of  possible  aims  of  human  action 
correspond  as  many  Imperatives,  directing  merely  how  they 
are  to  be  attained,  without  any  question  of  their  value ;  these 
are  Imperatives  of  Fitness.  To  one  real  aim,  existing  neces- 
sarily for  all  rational  beings,  viz.,  Happiness,  corresponds  the 
Imperative  of  Prudence  (in  the  narrow  sense),  being  assertory 
while  hypothetical.  The  categorical  Imperative,  enjoining  a 
mode  of  action  for  itself,  and  concerned  about  the  form  and 
principle  of  it,  not  its  nature  and  result,  is  the  Imperative  of 
Morality.  These  various  kinds  of  Imperatives,  as  influencing 
the  will,  may  be  distinguished  as  Rules  (of  fitness),  Counsels 


816  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — KA.NT. 

(of  prudence),  Commands  or  Laivs  (of  morality) ;  also  aa 
technical,  pragmatical,  moral. 

Now,  as  to  the  question  of  the  possibility  of  these  different 
Imperatives — how  they  can  be  supposed  able  to  influence  or 
act  upon  the  Will — there  is  in  the  first  case  no  difficulty ;  in 
wishing  an  end  it  is  necessarily  implied  that  we  wish  the 
indispensable  means,  when  this  is  in  our  power.  In  like 
manner,  the  Imperatives  of  Prudence  are  also  analytical  in 
character  (i.e.,  given  by  implication),  if  ^nly  it  were  possible  to 
have  a  definite  idea  of  the  end  sought,  viz.,  happiness.  But,  in 
fact,  with  the  elements  of  happiness  to  be  got  from  experience 
at  the  same  time  that  the  idea  requires  an  absolute  whole,  or 
maximum,  of  satisfaction  now  and  at  every  future  moment,  no 
finite  being  can  know  precisely  what  he  wants,  or  what  may 
be  the  effect  of  any  of  his  wishes.  Action,  on  fixed  principles, 
with  a  view  to  happiness,  is,  therefore,  not  possible ;  and  one 
can  only  follow  empirical  directions,  about  Diet,  Frugality, 
Politeness,  &c.,  seen  on  the  whole  to  promote  it.  Although, 
however,  there  is  no  certainty  of  causing  happiness,  and  the 
Imperatives  with  reference  thereto  are  mere  counsels,  they 
retain  their  character  of  analytical  propositions,  and  their 
action  on  the  will  is  not  less  possible  than  in  the  former  case. 

To  prove  the  possibility  of  the  Imperative  of  morality  is 
more  difficult.  As  categorical,  it  presupposes  nothing  else  to 
rest  its  necessity  upon  ;  while  by  way  of  experience,  it  can 
never  be  made  out  to  be  more  than  a  prudential  precept — i.e., 
a  pragmatic  or  hypothetic  principle.  Its  possibility  must 
therefore  be  established  a  priori.  But  the  difficulty  will  then 
appear  no  matter  of  wonder,  when  it  is  remembered  (from  the 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason)  how  hard  it  is  to  establish  synthetic 
propositions  a  loriori. 

The  question  of  the  possibility,  however,  meanwhile  post- 
poned, the  mere  conception  of  a  categorical  Imperative  is 
found  to  yield  the  one  formula  that  can  express  it,  from  its 
not  being  dependent,  like  a  hypothetical  Imperative,  on  a,ny 
external  condition.  Besides  tlie  Law  (or  objective  principle 
of  conduct),  the  only  thing  implied  in  the  Imperative  being 
the  necessity  laid  upon  the  Maxim  (or  subjective  principle) 
to  conform  to  the  law — a  law  limited  by  no  condition ; 
there  is  nothing  for  the  maxim  to  be  conformed  to  but 
the  universality  of  a  law  in  general,  and  it  is  the  conformity 
alone  that  properly  constitutes  the  Imperative  necessary. 
The  Imperative  is  thus  single,  and  runs  :  Act  according  to  that 
maxim  07dy  which  you  can  wiah  at  the  same  time  to  become  a 


FOltMULA    OF   THE   CATEGORICAL  IMPERATIVE.         317 

universal  lain.  Or,  since  universality  of  law  as  determining 
effects  is  what  we  understand  by  nature  :  Act  as  if  the  maxim 
of  your  action  ought  hij  your  will  to  become  the  universal  law  of 
nature. 

Taking  cases  of  duties  according  to  the  common  divisions 
of  duties  to  ourselv^es  and  to  others,  perfect  and  imperfect,  he 
proceeds  to  show  that  they  may  be  all  deduced  from  the  single 
Imperative ;  the  question  of  the  reality  of  duty,  which  is  the 
same  as  the  establishment  of  the  possibility  of  the  Imperative 
as  a  synthetic  practical  proposition  a  priori,  at  present  alto- 
gether apart.  SujDpose  a  man  tempted  to  commit  suicide, 
with  the  view  of  bettering  his  evil  condition  ;  but  it  is  contra- 
dictory that  the  very  principle  of  self- conservation  should 
lead  to  self-destruction,  and  such  a  maxim  of  conduct  cannot 
therefore  become  a  universal  law  of  nature.  Next,  the  case  o 
a  man  borrowing  without  meaning  to  repay,  has  only  to  be 
turned  into  a  universal  law,  and  the  thing  becomes  impossible  ; 
nobody  would  lend.  Again,  to  neglect  a  talent  that  is  generally 
useful  for  mere  ease  and  self-gratification,  can  indeed  be  sup- 
posed a  universal  practice,  but  can  never  be  wished  to  be. 
Finally,  to  refuse  help  to  others  universally  might  not  ruin 
the  race,  but  can  be  wished  by  no  one  that  knows  how  soon 
he  must  himself  need  assistance.  Now,  the  rule  was,  that  a 
maxim  of  conduct  should  be  ici^hecl  to  become  the  universal 
law.  In  the  last  two  cases,  it  cannot  be  wished;  in  the 
others,  the  maxim  cannot  even  be  conceived  in  universal 
form.  Thus,  two  grades  of  duty,  one  admitting  of  merit,  the 
other  so  strict  as  to  be  irremissible,  are  established  on  the 
general  principle.  The  principle  is  moreover  confirmed  in  the 
case  of  transgression  of  duty:  the  transgressor  by  no  means 
wishes  to  have  his  act  turned  into  a  general  rule,  but  only 
seeks  special  and  temporary  exemption  from  a  law  allowed 
by  himself  to  be  univ^ersal. 

Notwithstanding  this  force  and  ease  of  application,  a  cate- 
gorical Imperative  has  not  yet  been  proved  a  priori  actually 
existent;  and  it  was  allowed  that  it  could  not  be  proved 
empirically,  elements  of  inclination,  interest,  &c.,  being  incon- 
sistent with  morality.  The  real  question  is  this  :  Is  it  a  neces- 
sary law  that  all  rational  beings  should  act  on  maxims  that 
they  can  wish  to  become  universal  laws  ?  If  so,  this  must  be 
bound  up  with  the  very  not  on  of  the  will  of  a  rational  beino- ; 
the  relation  of  the  will  to  itself  being  to  be  determined  a 
priori  by  pure  Reason.  The  Will  is  considered  as  a  power  of 
Felf-detcrmination  to  act  according  to  certain  laws  as  repre- 


318  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS  -  KANT 

sented  to  the  mind,  existing  only  in  rational  beings.  And,  if 
the  objective  ground  of  self-determination,  ov  End,  is  supplied 
by  mere  Reason,  it  must  be  the  same  for  all  rational  beings. 
Ends  may  be  divided  into  Subjective,  resting  upon  individual 
Im])ulses  ov  subjective  grounds  of  desire;  and  Objective,  de- 
pending on  Motives  or  objective  grounds  of  Volition  valid  for 
all  rational  beings.  The  principles  of  action  are,  in  the  one 
case,  Material,  and,  in  the  other.  Formal,  i.e.,  abstracted  from 
all  subjective  ends.  Material  ends,  as  relative,  beget  only 
hypothetical  Imperatives.  But,  supposed  some  thing,  the 
presence  of  which  in  itself  has  an  absolute  value,  and  vv^hich, 
as  End-in-self,  can  be  a  ground  of  fixed  laws ;  there,  and  there 
only,  can  be  the  ground  of  a  possible  categorical  Imperative, 
or  Law  of  Practice. 

Now,  such  an  End-in-self  (not  a  thing  with  merely  con- 
ditional value, — a  means  to  be  used  arbitrarily)  is  Mau 
and  every  rational  being,  as  Person.  There  is  no  other  objec- 
tive end  with  absolute  value  that  can  supply  to  the  Reason 
the  supreme  practical  principle  requisite  for  turning  subjective 
principles  of  action  into  objective  principles  of  volition.  Ra- 
tional Nature  as  End-in-self  is  a  subjective  principle  to  a  man 
having  this  conception  of  his  own  being,  but  becomes  objec- 
tive when  every  rational  being  has  the  same  from  the  same 
ground  in  Reason.  Hence  a  new  form  (+he  second)  to  the 
practical  Imperative:  Act  so  as  to  use  Humanity  (Human 
Nature)  as  well  in  your  ow7i  j^erson,  as  in  the  person  of  another, 
ever  as  end  also,  and  never  merely  as  mearis. 

To  this  new  formula,  the  old  examples  are  easily  squared. 
Suicide  is  using  one's  person  as  a  mere  means  to  a  tolerable 
existence ;  breaking  faith  to  others  is  using  them  as  means, 
not  as  ends-in-self;  neglect  of  self-cultivation  is  the  not 
furthering  human  nature  as  end- in-self  in  one's  own  person  ; 
withholding  help  is  refusing  to  further  Humanity  as  end-in-self 
through  the  medium  of  the  aims  of  others.  [In  a  note  he 
denies  that  'the  trivial,  Do  to  others  as  you  would,'  &c.,  is  a 
full  expression  of  the  law  of  duty  :  it  contains  the  ground, 
neither  of  duties  to  self;  nor  of  duties  of  benevolence  to  others, 
for  many  would  forego  receiving  good  on  conditions  of  not 
conferring  it ;  nor  of  the  duty  of  retribution,  for  the  male- 
factor could  turn  it  against  his  judge,  &c.] 

The  universality  of  this  principle  of  Human  and  Rational 
Nature  as  End-in-self,  as  also  its  character  of  objective  end 
limiting  merely  subjective  ends,  prove  that  its  source  is  in  pure 
Reason.     Objectively,  the  ground  of  all  practical  legislation  is 


THE  WILL  IS  AUTONOMOUS.  319 

Rule  and  the  Form  of  Universality  that  enables  mle  to  be 
Law  (of  ;N"ature),  according  to  principle  first  (in  its  double 
form)  ;  subjectively,  it  is  End,  the  subject  of  all  ends  being 
every  rational  being  as  End-in-self,  according  to  principle 
second.  Hence  follows  the  third  practical  principle  of  the 
Will,  as  supreme  condition  of  its  agreement  with  nniversal 
practical  Reason — the  idea  of  the  Will  of  every  rational  being  as 
a  Will  that  legislates  universalli/.  The  Will,  if  subject  to  law, 
has  first  itself  imposed  it. 

This  new  idea — of  the  Will  of  every  rational  being  as  nniver- 
sally  legislative — is  what,  in  the  implication  of  the  Categorical 
Imperative,  specifically  marks  it  ofi"  from  any  Hypothe- 
tical :  Interest  is  seen  to  be  quite  incompatible  with  Duty,  if 
Duty  is  Volition  of  this  kind.  A  will  merely  subject  to  laws 
can  be  bound  to  them  by  interest ;  not  so  a  will  itself  legis- 
lating supremely,  for  that  would  imply  another  law  to  keep 
the  interest  of  self-love  from  trenchmg  upon  the  validity  of 
the  universal  law.  Illustration  is  not  needed  to  prove  that  a 
Categorical  Imperative,  or  law  for  the  will  of  every  rational 
being,  if  it  exist  at  all,  cannot  exclude  Interest  and  be  uncon- 
ditional, except  as  enjoining  everything  to  be  done  from  the 
maxim  of  a  will  that  in  legislating  universally  can  have  itself 
for  object.  This  is  the  point  that  has  been  always  missed, 
that  the  laws  of  duty  shall  be  at  once  self-imposed  and  yet 
universal.  Subjection  to  a  law  not  springing  from  one's  own 
will  implies  interest  or  constraint,  and  constitutes  a  certain 
necessity  of  action,  but  never  makes  Duty.  Be  the  interest 
one's  own  or  another's,  the  Imperative  is  conditional  only. 
Kant's  principle  is  the  Autonomy  of  the  Will;  every  other 
its  Hetero7iomy . 

The  new  point  of  view  opens  up  the  very  fruitful  concep- 
tion of  an  Empire  or  Realm  of  Ends.  As  a  Realm  is  the  sys- 
tematic union  of  rational  beings  by  means  of  common  laws,  so 
the  ends  determined  by  the  laws  may,  abstractly  viewed,  be 
taken  to  form  a  systematic  whole.  Rational  beings,  as  subject 
to  a  law  requiring  them  to  treat  themselves  and  others  as 
ends  and  never  merely  as  means,  enter  into  a  systematic  union 
by  means  of  common  objective  laws,  i.e.  into  an  (ideal)  Em- 
pire or  Realm  of  Ends,  from  the  laws  being  concerned  about 
the  mutual  relations  of  rational  beings  as  Ends  and  Means. 
In  this  Realm,  a  rational  being  is  either  Head  or  Member: 
Head,  if  legislating  universally  and  with  complete  indepen- 
dence ;  Member,  if  also  universally,  but  at  the  same  time  sub- 
ject to  the  laws.     When  now  the  maxim  of  the  will  does  not 


320  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS  — KANT. 

by  nature  accord  necessarily  with  tlie  demand  of  tlie  objective 
principle — that  the  will  through  its  maxim  be  able  to  regard 
itself  at  the  same  time  as  legislating  universally — a  practical 
constraint  is  exerted  by  the  principle,  which  is  Vuty^  lying  oil 
every  Member  in  the  Realm  of  Ends  (not  on  the  Head)  alike. 
This  necessity  of  practice  reposes,  not  on  feeling,  impulse,  at 
inclination,  but  on  the  relation  between  rational  beings  arising 
from  the  fact  that  each,  as  End-in-self,  legislates  universally. 
The  Reason  gives  a  universal  application  to  every  maxim  of 
the  Will ;  not  from  any  motive  of  interest,  but  from  the  idea 
of  the  Dignity  of  a  rational  being  that  follows  no  law  that  it 
does  not  itself  at  the  same  time  give. 

Everything  in  the  Realm  of  Ends  has  either  a  Trice  or  a 
Dignity.  Skill,  Diligence,  &c.,  bearing  on  human  likings  and 
needs,  have  a  Market-pnce;  Qualities  like  Wit,  Fancy,  &c., 
appealing  to  Taste  or  Emotional  Satisfaction,  have  an  Affection' 
price.  But  Morality,  the  only  way  of  being  End-in-self,  and 
legislating  member  in  the  Realm  of  Ends,  has  an  intrinsic 
Worth  or  Dignity,  calculable  in  nothing  else.  Its  worth  is  not 
in  results,  but  in  dispositions  of  Will ;  its  actions  need  neither 
recommendation  from  a  subjective  disposition  or  taste,  nor 
prompting  from  immediate  tendency  or  feeling.  Being  laid 
on  the  Will  by  Reason,  they  make  the  Will,  in  the  execution, 
the  object  of  an  immediate  Eespect,  testifying  to  a  Dignity 
beyond  all  price.  The  grounds  of  these  lofty  claims  in  moral 
goodness  and  virtue  are  the  participation  by  a  rational  being 
in  the  universal  legislation,  fitness  to  be  a  member  in  a  possible 
Realm  of  Ends,  subjection  only  to  self-imposed  laws.  Nothing 
having  value  but  as  the  law  confers  it,  an  unconditional,  in- 
comparable worth  attaches  to  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  Respect 
is  the  only  word  that  expresses  a  rational  being's  appreciation 
of  that.  Autonomy  is  thus  the  foundation  of  the  dignity  of 
human  and  of  all  rational  nature. 

The  three  different  expressions  that  have  been  given  to 
the  one  general  principle  of  morality  imply  each  the  others, 
and  differ  merely  in  their  mode  of  presenting  one  idea  of 
the  Reason  to  the  mind.  Universal  application  of  the  Maxiin 
of  Coiuluct,  as  if  it  ivere  a  laiv  of  nature,  is  the  formula 
of  the  Will  as  absolutely  good ;  universal  prohibition  against 
the  use  of  rational  beings  ever  as  means  only,  has  reference 
to  the  fact  that  a  good  will  in  a  rational  being  is  an 
altogether  independent  and  ultimate  End,  an  End-in-self  ii 
all ;  universal  legislation  of  each  for  all  rt.'cognizes  the  preroga 
tive  or  special  dignity  of  rational  beings,  that  they  necessarily 


THEORIES  FOUNDED  ON  THE  HETERONOMY  OF  THE  WILL.  321 

take  their  maxims  from  the  point  of  view  of  all,  and  must 
regard  themselves,  being  Ends-in-self,  as  members  in  a  Realm 
of  Ends  (analogous  to  the  Realm  or  Kingdom  of  Nature), 
which,  though  merely  an  ideal  and  possible  conception,  none 
the  less  really  imposes  an  imperative  upon  action.  Morality^ 
he  concludes,  is  the  relation  of  actions  to  the  Autonomy  of  the 
Will,  i.e.,  to  possible  universal  legislation  through  its  maxims. 
Actions  that  can  co- exist  with  this  autonomy  are  allowed  ;  all 
others  are  not.  A  will,  whose  maxims  necessarily  accord  with 
the  laws  of  Autonomy,  is  holy,  or  absolutely  good ;  the  de- 
pendence of  a  will  not  thus  absolutely  good  is  Obligation.  The 
objective  necessity  of  an  action  fi'om  obligation  is  Bitty.  Sub- 
jedion  to  law  is  not  the  only  element  in  duty ;  the  fact  of  the 
law  being  self-imposed  gives  Dignity. 

The  Autonomy  of  the  will  is  its  being  a  law  to  itself,  with- 
out respect  to  the  objects  of  volition  ;  the  principle  of  autonomy 
is  to  choose  only  in  such  a  way  as  that  the  maxims  of  choice 
are  conceived  at  the  same  time  as  a  universal  law.  This  rule 
cannot  be  proved  analytically  to  be  an  Imperative,  absolutely 
binding  on  every  will ;  as  a  synthetic  proposition  it  requires, 
besides  a  knowledge  of  the  objects,  a  critique  of  the  subject, 
i.e.,  pure  practical  Reason,  before,  in  its  apodeictic  character, 
it  can  be  proved  completely  a  ijriori.  Still  the  mere  analysis 
of  moral  conceptions  has  sufficed  to  prove  it  the  sole  principle 
of  morals,  because  this  principle  is  seen  to  be  a  categorical 
Imperative,  and  a  categorical  imperative  enjoins  neither  more 
nor  less  than  this  Autonomy.  If,  then.  Autonomy  of  Will 
is  the  supreme  principle,  Heteronomy  is  the  source  of  all 
ungenuine  principles,  of  Morality.  Heteronomy  is  whenever 
the  Will  does  not  give  itself  laws,  but  some  object,  in  relation 
to  the  Will,  gives  them.  There  is  then  never  more  than  a 
hypothetical  Imperative :  I  am  to  do  something  because  I 
wish  something  else. 

There  follows  a  divisicjn  and  criticism  of  the  various 
possible  principles  of  morality  that  can  be  set  up  on  the 
assumption  of  Heteronomy,  and  that  have  been  put  forward 
by  human  Reason  in  default  of  the  required  Critique  of 
irs  pure  use.  Such  are  either  Empirical  or  Batlonal.  The 
Empirical,  embodying  the  principle  of  Hapj^lness,  are  founded 
on  {\)  physical  or  (2)  moral  fecluig  ;  the  Rational,  embodying 
the  principle  o? perfection,  on  (1)  the  rational  conception  of  it 
as  a  possible  result,  or  (2)  the  conception  of  an  independent 
perfection  (the  Will  of  God),  as  the  determining  cause  of  the 
will.     The  Empirical  principles  are  altogether  to  be  rejected, 


322  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — KANT. 

because  they  can  give  no  universal  law  for  all  rational  beings ; 
of  the  Rational  principles,  the  first,  though  setting  up  an 
empty  and  indefinite  conception,  has  the  merit  of  at  least 
making  an  appeal  from  sense  to  pure  reason.  But  the  fatal 
objection  to  all  four  is  their  implying  Heteronomy ;  no  impera- 
tive founded  on  them  can  utter  moral,  i.e.y  categorical 
commands. 

That  the  absolutely  good  Will  must  be  autonomous — 
i.e.,  without  any  kind  of  motive  or  interest,  lay  commands 
on  itself  that  are  at  the  same  time  fit  to  be  laws  for 
all  rational  beings,  appears,  then,  from  a  deeper  considera- 
tion of  even  the  popular  conceptions  of  morality.  But 
now  the  question  can  no  longer  be  put  off:  Is  Morality,  of 
which  this  is  the  only  conception,  a  reality  or  a  phantom? 
All  the  different  expressions  given  to  the  Categorical  Impera- 
tives are  synthetic  practical  propositions  a  priori ;  they  postu- 
late a  possible  synthetic  use  of  the  pure  practical  reason.  Is 
there,  and  hew  is  there,  such  a  possible  synthetic  use  ?  This 
is  the  question  (the  same  as  the  other)  that  Kant  proceeds  to 
answer  in  the  Third  Section,  by  giving,  in  default  of  a  com- 
plete Critique  of  the  faculty,  as  much  as  is  necessary  for  the 
purpose.  But  here,  since  he  afterwards  undertook  the  full 
Critique,  it  is  better  to  stop  the  analysis  of  the  earlier  work, 
and  summarily  draw  upon  both  for  the  remainder  of  the 
argument,  and  the  rather  because  some  important  points 
have  to  be  added  that  occur  only  in  the  Inter  treatise.  The 
foregoing  is  a  sufiBcient  example  ol  his  method  of  treatment. 

The  synthetic  use  of  the  pure  practical  reason,  in  the  Cate- 
gorical Imperative,  is  legitimized ;  Autonomy  of  the  Will  is 
explained ;  Duty  is  shown  to  be  no  phantom — through  tbe 
conception  of  Freedom  of  Will,  properly  understood.  Theoreti- 
cally (speculatively),  Freedom  is  undemonstrahle ;  being 
eternally  met,  in  one  of  the  (cosmological)  Antinomies  of  the 
Pure  Reason,  by  the  counter-assertion  that  everything  in  the 
universe  takes  place  according  to  unchanging  laws  of  nature. 
Even  theoretically,  however.  Freedom  is  not  inconceivable, 
and  morally  we  become  certain  of  it;  for  we  are  conscious  of 
the  'ought*  of  duty,  and  with  the  'ought'  there  must  go  a 
'  can.'  It  is  not,  however,  as  Phenomenon  or  Sensible  Ens 
that  a  man  '  can,'  is  free,  has  an  absolute  initiative  ;  all  pheno- 
mena or  Sensible  Entia,  being  in  space  and  time,  are  subject 
to  the  Natural  Law  of  Causality.  But  man  is  also  Noumenon, 
Thin g-in- self.  Intelligible  Ens;  and  as  such,  being  free  from 
conditions  of  time  and  space,  stands  outside  of  the  sequence 


POSTULATES   OF  THE  PEACTICAL  REASON.  823 

of  Nature.  Now,  the  Nouraenon  or  Ens  of  the  Reason  (ho 
assumes)  stands  higher  than,  or  has  a  value  above,  the  Pheno- 
menon or  Sensible  Ens  (as  much  as  Reason  stands  higher 
than  Sense  and  Inclination) ;  accordingly,  while  it  is  only  man 
as  Noumenon  that  '  can,'  it  is  to  man  as  Phenomenon  that  the 
*  ought'  is  properly  addressed ;  it  is  upon  man  as  Phenomenon 
that  the  law  of  Duty,  prescribed,  with  perfect  freedom  from 
motive,  by  Man  as  Noumenon,  is  laid. 

Freedom  of  Will  in  Man  as  Rational  End  or  Thing- in-self 
is  thus  the  great  Postulate  of  the  pure  Practical  Reason ;  we 
can  be  sure  of  the  fact  (although  it  must  always  remain  spe- 
culatively undemonstrable),  because  else  there  could  be  no 
explanation  of  the  Categorical  Imperative  of  Daty.  But  inas- 
much as  the  Practical  Reason,  besides  enjoining  a  law  of 
Duty,  must  provide  also  a  final  end  of  action  in  the  idea  of  an 
unconditioned  Supreme  Good,  it  contains  also  two  other  Pos- 
tulates :  Man  being  a  sentient  as  well  as  a  rational  beinoj", 
Happiness  as  well  as  Perfect  Virtue  or  Moral  Perfection  must 
enter  into  the  Summum  Bouum  (not,  one  of  them  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  other,  as  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans,  in  dif- 
ferent senses,  declared).  Now,  since  there  is  no  such  necessary 
conjunction  of  the  two  in  nature,  it  must  be  sought  otherwise. 
It  is  found  in  postulating  Immortalitij  and  God. 

Immortality  is  required  to  render  possible  the  attainment 
of  moral  perfection.  Virtue  out  of  re-;.e  •/  for  law,  with  a  con- 
stant tendency  to  fall  away,  is  all  ihat  is  attainable  in  life. 
The  Holiness^  or  complete  accommodation  of  the  will  to  the 
Moral  Law,  implied  in  the  Summum  Bonum,  can  be  attained 
to  only  in  the  course  of  an  infinite  progression  ;  which  means 
personal  Immortality.  [As  In  the  former  case,  the  specula- 
tive impossibility  of  proving  the  immateriality,  &c.,  of  the 
supernatural  soul  is  not  here  overcome  ;  bat  Immortality  is 
morally  certain,  being  demanded  by  the  Practical  Reason.] 

Moral  perfection  thus  provided  for,  God  must  be  postulated 
in  order  to  find  the  ground  of  the  required  conj auction  of 
Felicity.  Happiness  is  the  condition  of  the  rational  being  in 
whose  whole  existence  everything  goes  according  to  wish  and 
will ;  and  this  is  not  the  condition  of  man,  for  in  him  observ- 
ance of  the  moral  law  is  not  conjoined  with  power  of  disposal 
over  the  laws  of  nature.  Bat,  as  Practical  Reason  demands 
the  conjunction,  it  is  to  be  found  only  in  a  being  who  is  the 
author  at  once  of  Natare  and  of  the  Moral  Law  ;  and  this  is 
God.  [The  same  remark  once  more  applies,  that  here  whaii 
is  obtained  is  a  moral  certainty  of  the  existence  of  the  Deity : 


324  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — ^KANT. 

the  negative  result  of  the  Critique  of  the  Pait<  (ajj  t,j^aUve) 
Reason  abides  what  it  was.] 

We  may  now  attempt  to  summarize  this  abstruse  Ethical 
theory  of  Kant. 

I. — The  Standard  of  morally  good  action  (or  rather  Will), 
as  expressed  in  the  different  forms  of  the  Categorical  Impera- 
tive, is  the  possibility  of  its  being  universally  extended  as  a 
law  for  all  rational  beings.  His  meaning  conies  out  still  better 
in  the  obverse  statement :  The  action  is  bad  that  cannot  be,  or 
at  least  cannot  be  wished  to  be,  turned  unto  a  universal  law. 

II. — Kant  would  expressly  demur  to  being  questioned  aa 
to  his  Psychology  of  Ethics ;  since  he  puts  his  own  theory  in 
express  opposition  to  every  other  founded  upon  any  empirical 
view  of  the  mental  constitution.  Nevertheless,  we  may 
extract  some  kind  of  answers  to  the  usual  queries. 

The  Faculty  is  the  (pure  Practical)  Reason.  The  appre- 
hension of  what  is  morally  right  is  entirely  an  affair  of  Reason ; 
the  only  element  of  Feeling  is  an  added  Sentiment  of  Awe  or 
Respect  for  the  law  that  Reason  imposes,  this  being  a  law, 
not  only  for  me  who  impose  it  on  myself,  but  at  the  same 
time  for  every  rational  agent.  [The  Pure  Reason,  which 
means  with  Kant  the  Faculty  of  Principles,  is  Speculative  or 
Practical.  As  Specidati've,  it  requires  us  to  bring  our  know- 
ledge (of  the  understanding)  to  certain  higher  unconditioned 
unities  (Soul,  CosraoF,  Cod)  ;  but  there  is  error  if  these  are 
themselves  regarded  as  facts  of  knowledge.  As  Practical,  it 
sets  up  an  unconditional  law  of  Daty  in  Action  (unconditioned 
by  motives)  ;  and  in  this  and  in  the  related  conception  of  the 
Summum  Bonum  is  contained  a  moral  certainty  of  the  Immor- 
tality (of  the  soul),  Freedom  (in  the  midst  of  Natural  Neces- 
sity), and  of  God  as  existent,] 

As  to  the- point  of  Free-will,  nothing  more  need  be  said. 

Disinterested  Sentiment,  as  sentiiiient,  is  very  little  re- 
garded :  disinterested  action  is  required  with  such  rigour  that 
every  act  or  disposition  is  made  to  lose  its  character  as  moral, 
according  as  any  element  of  interested  feeling  of  any  kind 
enters  into  it.  Kant  obliterates  the  line  between  Duty  and 
Virtue,  by  making  a  duty  of  every  virtue ;  at  least  he  con- 
ceives clearly  that  there  is  no  Virtue  in  doing  what  we  are 
strongly  prompted  to  by  inclination — that  virtue  must  involve 
Belf-sacrifice. 

III. — His  position  with  respect  to  Happiness  is  peculiar. 
Happiness  is  not  the  end  of  action  :  the  end  of  action  is  rather 
the  self-assertion  of  the  rational  faculty  over  the  lower  man. 


DUTIES.  325 

If  the  constituents  of  Happiness  conld  be  known — and  they 
cannot  be — there  would  be  no  morality ,  but  only  lorudence  in 
the  pursuit  of  them.  To  promote  our  own  happiness  is  indeed  a 
duty,  but  in  order  to  keep  us  from  neglecting  our  other  duties. 

Nevertheless,  he  conceives  it  necessary  that  there  should 
be  an  ultimate  equation  of  Virtue  and  Happiness ;  and  the 
need  of  Happiness  he  then  expressly  connects  with  the  sen- 
suous side  of  our  being. 

IV. — His  Moral  Code  may  here  be  shortly  presented 
from  the  second  part  of  his  latest  work,  where  it  is  fully  given. 
Distinguishing  Moral  Duties  or  (as  he  calls  them)  '  Virtue- 
duties,''  left  to  be  enforced  internally  by  Conscience,  from 
Legal  Duties  (Bechtspjlichten),  externally  enforced,  he  divides 
them  into  two  classes — (A)  Duties  to  Self;  (B)  Duties  to 
Others. 

(A)  Duties  to  Self.  These  have  regard  to  the  one  private 
Aim  or  End  that  a  man  can  make  a  duty  of,  viz.,  his  own 
Ferfpctiou ;  for  his  own  Happiness,  being  provided  for  by  a 
natural  propensity  or  inclination,  is  to  himself  no  duty.  They 
are  [a)  perfect  (negative  or  restrictive)  as  directed  to  mere 
Self-Conservation ;  {h)  imperfect  (positive  or  extensive)  as 
directed  to  the  Advancement  or  Perfecting  of  one's  being. 
The  perfect  are  concerned  about  Self  (a),  as  an  Animal  crea- 
ture, and  then  are  directed  against — (1)  Self-destruction,  (2) 
Sexual  Excess,  (3)  Intemperance  in  Eating  and  JDrinldng ; 
(/3)  as  a  Moral  creature,  and  then  are  directed  against — (1) 
Lying,  (2)  Avarice,  (3)  Servility.  The  imperfect  have  reference 
to  (a)  physical,  Q-i)  moral  advancement  or  perfection  (subjec- 
tively. Purity  or  Holiness). 

{Bj  Duties  to  Otliers.  These  have  regard  to  the  only  Aim 
or  End  of  others  that  a  man  can  make  a  duty  of,  viz.,  their 
HcLpjpiness ,  for  their  Perfection  can  be  promoted  only  by  them- 
selves. Duties  to  others  as  men  are  metaphysically  deducible ; 
and  application  to  sp)ecial  conditions  of  men  is  to  be  made  empiri- 
cally. They  include  (a)  Duties  of  Love,  involving  Merit  or 
Desert  (i.e.,  return  from  the  objects  of  them)  in  the  perform- 
ance :  (1)  Beneficence,  (2)  Gratitude,  (3)  Fellow-feeling;  (6) 
Duties  of  Respect,  absolutely  due  to  others  as  men ;  the 
opposites  are  the  vices  :  (1 )  Haughtiness,  (2)  Slander,  (3)  Scorn- 
fulness.  In  Friendship),  Love  and  Respect  are  combined  in 
the  highest  degree.  Lastly,  he  notes  Social  duties  in  human 
intercourse  [Affability,  &c.) — these  being  outwo7'hs  of  morality. 

He  allows  no  special  Duties  to  God,  or  Inferior  Creatures, 
beyond  what  is  contained  in  Moral  Perfection  as  Duty  to  Self, 


326  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS— COUSIN. 

V. — The  conception  of  Law  enters  largely  into  Kaut'fl 
theory  of  morals,  but  in  a  sense  purely  transcendental,  and 
not  as  subjecting  or  assimilating  morality  to  positive  political 
institution.  The  Legality  of  external  actions^  as  well  as  the 
Morality  of  internal  disiJosHions,  is  determined  by  reference 
to  the  one  universal  moral  Imperative.  The  principle  under- 
lying all  legal  or  jural  (as  opposed  to  moral  or  ethical)  pro- 
visions, is  the  necessity  of  uniting  in  a  universal  law  of 
freedom  the  spontaneity  of  each  with  the  spontaneity  of  all 
the  others :  individual  freedom  and  freedom  of  all  must  be 
made  to  subsist  together  in  a  universal  law. 

VI. — With  Kant,  Religion  and  Morality  are  very  closely 
connected,  or,  in  a  sense,  even  identified ;  but  the  alliance  is 
not  at  the  expense  of  Morality.  So  far  from  making  this 
dependent  on  Religion,  he  can  find  nothing  but  the  moral 
conviction  whereon  to  establish  the  religious  doctrines  of 
Immortality  and  the  Existence  of  God ;  while,  in  a  special 
work,  he  declares  further  that  Religion  consists  merely  in  the 
practice  of  Morality  as  a  system  of  divine  commands,  and 
claims  to  judge  of  all  religious  institutions  and  dogmas  by  the 
mural  consciousness.  Besides,  the  Postulates  themselves,  in 
which  the  passage  to  Religion  is  made,  are  not  all  equally 
imperative, — Freedom,  as  the  ground  of  the  fact  of  Duty,  being 
more  urgently  demanded  than  others ;  and  he  even  goes  so 
far  as  to  make  the  allowance,  that  whoever  has  sufficient  moral 
strength  to  fulfil  the  Law  of  Reason  without  them,  is  not 
required  to  subscribe  to  them. 

The  modern  French  school,  that  has  arisen  in  this  cen- 
tury under  the  combined  influer  3e  of  the  Scotch  and  the 
German  philosophy,  has  bestowed  some  attention  on  Ethics. 
We  end  by  noticing  under  it  Cousin  and  JoujQfroy. 

VICTOR  COUSIN.        [1792-1867.] 

The  analysis  of  Cousin's  ethical  views  is  made  upon  his 
historical  lectures  Stir  les  Idees  du  Vrai,  du  Beau  at  du  Bien, 
as  delivered  in  1817-18.  They  contain  a  dogmatic  exposition 
of  his  own  opinions,  beginning  at  the  20th  lecture  ;  the  three 
preceding  lectures,  in  the  section  of  the  whole  course  devoted 
to  the  Good,  being  taken  up  with  the  preliminary  review  of 
other  opinions  required  for  his  eclectical  purpose. 

He  determines  to  consider,  by  way  of  psychological  analysis, 
the  ideas  and  sentiments  of  every  kind  called  up  by  the  spec* 


FUNDAMENTAL  ANALYSIS.  327 

tacle  of  human  actions;  and  first  he  notes  actions  that  please 
and  displease  the  senses,  or  in  some  way  affect  our  interest : 
those  that  are  agreeable  and  useful  we  naturally  choose,  avoid- 
ing the  opposites,  and  in  this  we  are  prwcZeu^.  But  there  is 
another  set  of  actions,  having  no  reference  to  our  own  per- 
sonal interest,  which  yet  we  qualify  as  good  or  bad.  When 
an  armed  robber  kills  and  spoils  a  defenceless  man,  we,  though 
beholding  the  sight  in  safety,  are  at  once  stirred  up  to  disin- 
terested horror  and  indignation.  This  is  no  mere  passing  sen- 
timent, but  includes  a  two-fold  judgment,  pronounced  then 
and  ever  after ;  that  the  action  is  in  itself  bad,  and  that  it 
ought  not  to  be  committed.  Still  farther,  our  anger  implies 
that  the  object  of  it  is  conscious  of  the  evil  and  the  obligation, 
and  is  therefore  responsible ;  wherein  again  is  implied  that  he 
is  a  free  agent.  And,  finally,  demanding  as  we  do  that  he 
should  be  punished,  we  pass  what  has  been  called  a  judgment 
of  merit  and  demerit,  which  is  built  upon  an  idea  in  our  minds 
of  a  supreme  law,  joining  happiness  to  virtue  and  misfortune 
to  crime. 

The  analysis  thus  far  he  claims  to  be  strictly  scientific ;  he 
now  proceeds  to  vary  the  case,  taking  actions  of  our  own.  I 
am  supposed  entrusted  by  a  dying  friend  with  a  deposit  for 
another,  and  a  struggle  ensues  between  interest  and  probity 
as  to  whether  I  should  pay  it.  If  interest  conquers,  remorse 
ensues.  He  paints  the  state  of  remorse,  and  analyzes  it  into 
the  same  elements  as  before,  the  idea  of  good  and  evil^  of  an 
obligator!/  law,  of  liberty,  of  merit  and  demerit ;  it  tlius  includes 
the  whole  phenomenon  of  morality.  The  exactly  opposite  state 
that  follows  upon  the  victory  uf  probity,  is  proved  to  imply 
the  same  facts. 

The  ISIoral  Sentiment,  so  striking  in  its  character,  has  by 
some  been  supposed  the  foundation  of  all  morality,  but  in 
point  of  fact  it  is  itself  constituted  by  these  various  judgments. 
Now  that  they  are  known  to  stand  as  its  elements,  he 
goes  on  to  sulDJect  each  to  a  stricter  analysis,  taking  first 
the  judgment  of  good  and  evil,  which  is  at  the  bottom  of 
all  tlie  rest.  It  lies  in  the  original  constitution  of  human 
nature,  being  simple  and  indecomposable,  like  the  judg- 
ment of  the  True  and  the  Beautiful.  It  is  absolute,  and 
cannot  be  withheld  in  presence  of  certain  acts ;  but  it  only 
declares,  and  does  not  constitute,  good  and  evil,  these  being 
real  and  independent  qualities  of  actions.  Applied  at  first  to 
special  cases,  the  judgment  of  good  gives  bu^th  to  general 
principles  that  become  rules  for  judging  other  actions.     Like 


328  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — COUSIN. 

other  sciences,  morality  has  its  axioms,  justly  called  moral 
truths ;  if  it  is  good  to  keep  an  oath,  it  is  also  true,  the  oath 
being  made  with  no  other  purpose  than  to  be  kept.  Faith- 
ful guarding  as  m.uch  belongs  to  the  idea  of  a  deposit,  as  the 
equality  between  its  three  angles  and  two  right  angles  to  the 
idea  of  a  triangle.  By  no  caprice  or  effort  of  will  can  a  moral 
verity  be  made  in  the  smallest  degree  other  than  it  is. 

Biit,  he  goes  on,  a  moral  verity  is  not  simply  to  be  be- 
lieved ;  it  must  also  be  practised,  and  this  is  obligation,  the 
second  of  the  elements  of  moral  sentiment.  Obligation,  like 
moral  truth,  on  which  it  rests,  is  absolute,  immutable,  univer- 
sal. Kant  even  went  so  far  as  to  make  it  the  principle  of  our 
morality ;  but  this  was  subjectivizing  good,  as  he  had  subjec- 
tivized  truth.  Before  there  is  an  obligation  to  act,  there  must 
be  an  intrinsic  goodness  in  the  action ;  the  real  first  truth  of 
morality  is  justice,  i.e.,  the  essential  distinction  of  good  and 
evil.  It  is  justice,  therefore,  and  not  duty,  that  strictly  de- 
serves the  name  of  a  principle. 

The  next  element  is  llhertij.  Obligation  implies  the  faculty 
of  resisting  desire,  passion,  &c.,  else  there  would  be  a  contra- 
diction in  human  nature.  But  the  truest  proof  of  liberty  is  to 
be  sought  in  the  constant  testimony  of  consciousness,  that,  in 
wishing  this  or  that,  I  am  equally  able  to  will  the  contrary. 
He  distinguishes  between  the  power  of  willing  and  the  power 
of  executing  ;  also  between  will  and  desire,  or  passion.  In  the 
conflict  between  will  and  the  tyranny  of  desire  lies  liberty  ; 
and  the  aim  of  the  conflict  is  the  fulfilment  of  duty.  For  the 
will  is  never  so  free,  never  so  much  itself,  as  when  yielding  to 
the  law  of  duty.  Persons  are  distinguished  from  Things  in 
having  responsibility,  dignity,  intrinsic  value.  Because  there 
is  in  me  a  being  worthy  of  respect,  I  am  bound  in  duty  to 
respect  myself,  and  have  the  rigid  to  be  respected  by  yon. 
My  duty  (he  means,  of  course,  what  I  owe  to  self)  is  the  exact 
measure  of  my  right.  The  character  of  being  a  ^person  is  in- 
violable, is  the  foundation  of  property,  is  inalienable  by  self 
or  others,  and  so  forth. 

He  passes  to  the  last  element  of  the  phenomenon  of 
moralit}^,  the  judgment  of  inerlt  and  demerit.  The  judgment 
follows,  as  the  agent  is  supposed  free,  and  it  is  not  affected 
by  lapse  of  time.  It  depends  also  essentially  on  the  idea  that 
the  agent  knows  good  from  evil.  Upon  itself  follow  the 
notions  of  reward  and  punishment.  Merit  is  the  natural  right 
to  be  rewarded ;  demerit,  paradox  as  it  may  appear,  the  right 
to  be  punished.     A  criminal  would  claim  to  be  punished,  if 


ETHICAL  SENTIMENT.  329 

he  could  comprehend  the  absolute  necessity  of  expiation ;  and 
are  there  not  real  cases  of  such  criminals  ?  But  as  there  can 
be  merit  without  actual  reward,  so  to  be  rev/arded  does  not 
constitute  merit. 

If  good,  he  continues,  is  good  in  itself,  and  ought  to  be 
done  without  regard  to  consequences,  it  is  no  less  true  that 
the  consequenci|»  of  good  cannot  fail  to  be  happy.  Virtue 
without  happiness  and  crime  without  misfortune  are  a  con- 
tradiction, a  disorder;  which  are  hardly  met  with  in  the 
world,  even  as  it  is,  or.  where  in  a  few  cases  they  are  found, 
are  sure  to  be  righted  in  the  end  by  eternal  justice.  The 
sacrifice  supposed  in  virtue,  if  generously  accepted  and  cour- 
ageously undergone,  has  to  be  recompensed  in  respect  of  the 
amount  of  happiness  sacrificed. 

Once  more,  he  takes  up  the  Sentiment^  which  is  the  general 
echo  of  all  the  elements  of  the  phenomenon.  Its  end  is  to 
make  the  mind  sensible  of  the  bond  between  virtue  and  hap- 
piness;  it  is  the  direct  and  vivid  application  of  the  law  of 
merit.  Again,  he  touches  the  states  of  moral  satisfaction  and 
remorse,  speaks  of  our  sympathy  with  the  moral  goodness  of 
others  and  our  bc-nevolent  feeling  that  arises  towards  them — 
emotions  all,  but  covering  up  judgments ;  and  this  is  the  end 
of  his  detailed  analysis  of  the  actual  facts  of  the  case.  But 
he  still  goes  oq  to  sum  up  in  exact  expressions  the  foregoing 
results,  and  he  claims  especially  to  have  overlooked  neither 
the  part  played  by  Reason,  nor  the  function  of  Sentiment. 
The  rational  character  of  the  idea  of  good  gives  morality  its 
firm  foundation ;  the  lively  sentiment  helps  to  lighten  the 
often  heavy  burden  of  duty,  and  stirs  up  to  the  most  heroic 
deeds.  Self-interest  too  is  not  denied  its  place.  In  this  con- 
nexion, led  again  to  allude  to  the  happiness  appointed  to 
virtue  here  or  at  least  hereafter,  he  allows  that  God  may  be 
regarded  as  the  fountain  of  morality,  but  only  in  the  sense 
that  his  will  is  the  expression  of  his  eternal  wisdom  and 
justice.  Religion  crowns  morality,  uut  morality  is  based 
upon  itself.  The  rest  of  the  lecture  is  in  praise  of  Eclecticism, 
and  advocates  consideration  of  all  the  facts  involved  in 
morality,  as  against  exclusive  theories  founded  upon  only 
some  of  the  facts. 

Lectures  21st  and  22nd,  compressed  into  one  (Ed.  181'i) 
contain  the  application  of  the  foregoing  principles,  and  toe 
answer  to  the  question,  what  our  duties  are.  Daty  being 
absolute,  truth  becomes  obligatory,  and  absolute  truth  being 
known  by  the  reason  only,  to  obey  the  law  of  duty  is  to  obey 


330  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — COUSIN. 

reason.  But  what  actions  are  conformable  to  reason  ?  The 
characteristic  of  reason  he  takes  to  be  Universality,  and  this 
will  appear  in  the  motives  of  actions,  since  it  is  these  that 
confer  on  actions  their  morality.  Accordingly,  the  sign'  where- 
by to  discover  whether  an  action  is  duty,  is,  if  its  motive 
when  generalized  appear  to  the  reason  to  be  a  maxim  of 
universal  legislation  for  all  free  and  intelligent  beings.  This, 
the  norm  set  up  by  Kant,  as  certainly  discovers  what  is  and 
is  not  duty,  as  the  syllogism  detects  the  error  and  truth  of  an 
argument. 

To  obey  reason  is,  then,  the  first  duty,  at  the  root  of  all 
others,  and  itself  resting  directly  upon  the  relation  between 
liberty  and  reason ;  in  a  sense,  to  remain  reasonable  is  the 
sole  duty.  But  it  assumes  special  forms  amid  the  diversity  of 
human  relations.  He  first  considers  the  relations  wherein 
we  stand  to  ourselves  and  the  corresponding  duties.  That 
there  should  be  any  such  duties  is  at  first  sight  strange, 
seeing  we  belong  to  ourselves ;  but  this  is  not  the  same  as 
having  complete  power  over  ourselves.  Possessing  liberty, 
we  must  not  abdicate  it  by  yielding  to  passions,  and  treat 
ourselves  as  if  there  were  nothing  in  us  that  merits  respect. 
We  are  to  distinguish  between  what  is  peculiar  to  each  of  us, 
and  what  we  share  with  humanity.  Individual  peculiarities 
are  things  indifferent,  but  the  liberty  and  intelligence  that 
constitute  us  persons,  rather  than  individuals,  demand  to  be 
respected  even  by  ourselves.  There  is  an  obligation  of  self- 
respect  imposed  upon  us  as  moral  persons  that  was  not  estab- 
lished, and  is  not  to  be  destroyed,  by  us.  As  special  cases 
of  this  respect  of  the  moral  person  in  us,  he  cites  (1)  the 
duty  of  self-control  against  anger  or  melancholy,  not  for  their 
pernicious  consequences,  but  as  trenching  upon  the  moral 
dignity  of  liberty  and  intelligence;  (2)  the  duty  of  prudence, 
meaning  providence  in  all  things,  which  regulates  courage, 
enjoins  temperance,  is,  as  the  ancients  said,  the  mother  of  all 
the  virtues, — in  short,  the  government  of  liberty  by  reason ; 
(3)  veracity;  (4)  duty  towards  the  hocly ;  (5)  duty  oi  per- 
fecting (and  not  merely  keeping  intact)  the  intelligence, 
liberty,  and  sensibility  that  constitute  us  moral  beings. 

But  the  same  liberty  and  intelligence  that  constitute  me  a 
moral  person,  and  need  thus  to  be  respected  even  by  myself, 
exist  also  in  others,  conferring  rights  on  them,  and  imposing 
new  duties  of  respect  on  me  relatively  to  them.  To  their 
intelligence  I  owe  Truth  \  their  liberty  I  am  bound  to  respect, 
sometimes  even  to  the  extent  of  not  hindering  them  from 


GROUNDS    OF   THE    SEVERAL   DUTIES.  331 

maldng  a  wrong  use  of  it.  I  must  respect  also  their  affections 
(family,  &c.)  which  form  part  of  themselves  ;  their  bodies ; 
their  goods,  whether  acquired  by  labour  or  heritage.  All  these 
duties  are  summed  up  in  the  one  great  duty  of  Justice  or 
respect  for  the  rights  of  others  ;  of  which  the  greatest  violation 
is  slavery. 

The  whole  of  duty  towards  others  is  not  however  compre- 
hended in  justice.  Conscience  complains,  if  we  have  only  not 
done  injustice  to  one  in  suffering.  There  is  a  new  class  of 
duties — consolation^  charity,  sacrifice  —  to  which  indeed  cor- 
respond no  rights,  and  which  therefore  are  not  so  obligatory 
as  jastice,  but  which  cannot  be  said  not  to  be  obligatory. 
From  their  nature,  they  cannot  be  reduced  to  an  exact  for- 
mula ;  their  beauty  lies  in  liberty.  But  in  charity,  he  adds, 
there  is  also  a  danger,  from  its  effacing,  to  a  certain  extent,  the 
moral  personality  of  the  object  of  it.  In  acting  upon  others, 
we  risk  interfering  with  their  natural  rights  ;  charity  is  there- 
fore to  be  proportioned  to  the  liberty  and  reason  of  the  person, 
benefited,  and  is  never  to  be  made  the  means  of  usurping 
power  over  another. 

Justice  and  Charity  are  the  two  elements  composing  social 
morality.  But  what  is  social  ?  and  on  what  is  Society  founded, 
existing  as  it  does  everywhere,  and  makiag  man  to  be  what 
he  is  ?  Into  the  hopeless  question  of  its  origia  he  refuses  to 
enter ;  its  present  state  is  to  be  studied  by  the  light  of  the 
knowledge  of  human  nature.     Its  invariable  foundations  are 

(1)  the  need  we  have  of  each  other,  and  our  social  instincts, 

(2)  the  lasting  and  indestructible  idea  and  sentiment  of  righu 
and  justice.  The  need  and  instinct,  of  which  he  finds  many 
proofs,  begin  society ;  justice  crowns  the  work.  The  least 
consideration  of  the  relations  of  man  to  man,  suggest  the 
essential  principles  of  Society  —  justice,  liberty,  equality, 
government,  punishment.  Into  each  of  these  he  enters. 
Liberty  is  made  out  to  be  assured  and  developed  in  society, 
instead  of  diminished.  Equality  is  established  upon  the  char- 
acter of  moral  personality,  which  admits  of  no  degree.  The 
need  of  some  repression  upon  liberty,  where  the  liberty  of 
others  is  trenched  upon,  conducts  to  the  idea  of  Government — 
a  disinterested  third  party  armed  with  the  necessary  power  to 
assure  and  defend  the  liberty  of  all.  To  government  is  to  be 
ascribed,  first  its  inseparable  function  of  protecting  the  com- 
mon liberty  (without  unnecessary  repression),  and  next,  bene- 
ficent action,  corresponding  to  the  duty  of  charity.  It  requires, 
for  its  guidance,  a  rule  superior  to  itself,  i.e.,  law,  the  expres- 


332  ETHICAL  SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 

sion  of  universal  and  absolute  justice.  Here  follows  tlie  usual 
distinction  of  positive  and  natural  law.  The  sanction  of  law 
is  punishment ;  the  right  of  punishing,  as  was  seen,  depend- 
ing on  the  idea  of  demerit.  Punishment  is  not  mere  venge- 
ance, but  the  expiation  by  the  criminal  of  violated  justice  ;  it  is 
to  be  measured  therefore  chiefly  by  the  demerit  and  not  by  the 
injury  only.  Whether,  in  punishing,  allowance  should  be 
made  for  correction  and  amelioration,  is  to  put  the  same  case 
over  again  of  charity  coming  in  after  justice. 

Here  the  philosopher  stops  on  the  threshold  of  the  special 
science  of  politics.  But  already  the  fixed  and  invariable  prin- 
ciples of  society  and  government  have  been  given,  and,  even 
in  the  relative  sphere  of  politics,  the  rule  still  holds  that  all 
forms  and  institutions  are  to  be  moulded  as  far  as  possible  on 
the  eternal  principles  supplied  by  philosophy. 

The  following  is  a  summary  of  Cousin's  views  : — 

I. — The  Standard  is  the  judgment  of  good  or  evil  in 
actions.  Cousin  holds  that  good  and  evil  are  qualities  of 
actions  independent  of  our  judgment,  and  having  a  sort  of 
objective  existence. 

II. — The  Moral  Faculty  he  analyzes  into  four  judgments  : 
(1)  good  and  evil;  (2)  obhgation  ;  (8)  freedom  of  the  will; 
and  (4)  merit  and  demerit.  The  moral  sentiment  is  the 
emotions  connected  with  those  judgments,  and  chiefly  the 
feeling  connected  with  the  idea  of  merit.  [This  analysis  is 
obviously  redundant.  '  Good  '  and  '  evil '  apply  to  many 
things  outside  ethics,  and  to  be  at  all  appropriate,  they  must 
be  qualified  as  moral  (i.e.,  obligatory)  good  and  evil.  The 
connexion  between  obligation  and  demerit  has  been  previously 
explained.] 

III. — In  regard  to  the  Summum  Bonum,  Cousin  considers 
that  virtue  must  bring  happiness  here  or  hereafter,  and  vice, 
misery. 

IV. — He  accepts  the  criterion  of  duties  set  forth  by  Kaut. 
He  argues  for  the  existence  of  duties  towards  ourselves. 

V.  and  VI.  require  no  remark. 

THEODORE  SIMON  JOUFFROY.  [1796-1842.] 

In  the  Second  Lecture  of  his  unfinished  Gours  de  -Droit 
Natiirel,  Jouff'roy  gives  a  condensed  exposition  of  the  Moral 
Facts  of  human  nature  from  his  own  point  of  view. 

What  distinguishes,  he  says,  one  being  from  another,  is  it? 
Organization  ;  and  as  havinga special  nature,  every  creature  haa 


EVERY   BEING   HAS   ITS   SPECIAL   END.  333 

a  special  end.  Its  end  or  destination  is  its  good,  or  its  good 
consists  in  the  accomplishment  of  its  end.  Further,  to  have 
an  end  implies  the  possession  of  faculties  wherewith  to  attain 
it ;  and  all  this  is  applicable  also  to  man.  In  man,  as  in  other 
creatures,  from  the  very  first,  his  nature  tends  to  its  end,  by 
means  of  purely  instinctive  movements,  which  may  be  called 
primitive  and  instinctive  tendencies  of  human  nature ;  later 
they  are  called  passions.  Along  with  these  tendencies,  and 
under  their  influence,  the  intellectual  faculties  also  awake  and 
seek  to  procure  for  them  satisfaction.  The  faculties  work, 
however,  at  first,  in  an  indeterminate  fashion,  and  only  by 
meeting  obstacles  are  di'iven  to  the  concentration  necessary  to 
attain  the  ends.  He  illustrates  this  by  the  case  of  the  intel- 
lectual faculty  seeking  to  satisfy  the  desire  of  knowledge,  and 
not  succeeding  until  it  concentrates  on  a  single  point  its 
scattered  energies.  This  spontaneous  concentration  is  the 
first  manifestation  of  Will,  but  is  proved  to  be  not  natural 
from  the  feeling  of  constraint  always  experienced,  and  the 
glad  rebound,  after  efi'ort,  to  the  indeterminate  condition. 
One  fact,  too,  remains  even  after  everything  possible  has  been 
done,  viz.,  that  the  satisfaction  of  the  primitive  tendencies  is 
never  quite  complete. 

When,  however,  such  satisfaction  as  may  be,  has  been 
attained,  there  arises  pleasure;  and  pain,  when  our  faculties 
fail  to  attain  the  good  or  end  they  sought.  There  could  be 
action,  successful  and  unsuccessful,  and  so  good  and  evil, 
without  any  sensibility,  wherefore  good  and  evil  are  not  to  be 
confounded  with  pain  and  pleasure ;  but  constituted  as  we 
are,  there  is  a  sensible  echo  that  varies  according  as  the  result 
of  action  is  attained  or  not.  Pleasure  is,  then,  the  conse- 
quence, and,  as  it  were,  the  sign  of  the  realization  of  good, 
and  pain  of  its  privation. 

He  next  distinguishes  Secondary  passions  from  the  great 
primary  tendencies  and  passions.  These  arise  apropos  of 
external  objects,  as  they  are  found  to  further  or  oppose  the 
satisfaction  of  the  fundamental  tendencies.  Such  objects^  are 
then  called  useful  or  perrdcious.  Finally,  he  completes  his 
account  of  the  infantile  or  primitive  condition  of  man,  by 
remarking  that  some  ot  our  natural  tendencies,  like  Symp;i':liy, 
are  entirely  disinterested  in  seeking  the  good  of  others.  The 
main  feature  of  the  whole  primitive  state  is  the  exclusive 
domination  of  passion.  The  will  already  exists,  but  there  is 
no  liberty ;  the  present  passion  triumphs  over  the  future,  the 
Btrono-er  over  the  weaker. 


334  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 

He  now  passes  to  consider  the  double  transformation  of 
this  original  state,  that  takes  place  when  reason  appears. 
Reason  is  the  faculty  of  com.preliending,  which  is  different  from 
knowing,  and  is  peculiar  to  man.  As  soon  as  it  awakes  in  man, 
it  comprehends,  and  penetrates  to  the  meaning  of,  the  whole 
spectacle  of  human  activity.  It  first  forms  the  general  idea 
of  Goody  as  the  resultant  of  the  satisfaction  of  all  the  primary 
tendencies,  and  as  the  true  End  of  man.  Then,  comprehend- 
ing the  actual  situation  of  man,  it  resolves  this  idea  into  the 
idea,  of  the  greatest  possible  good.  All  that  conduces  to  the 
attainment  of  this  good,  it  includes  uiider  the  general  idea  of 
the  Useful;  and  finally,  it  constructs  the  general  idea  of 
Hajppiness  out  of  all  that  is  common  to  the  agreeable  sensa- 
tions that  follow  upon  the  satisfaction  of  the  primary  ten- 
dencies. 

But  besides  forming  these  three  perfectly  distinct  ideas, 
and  exploring  the  secret  of  what  has  been  passing  within,  the 
reason  also  comprehends  the  necessity  of  subjecting  to  control 
the  faculties  and  forces  that  are  the  condition  of  the  greatest 
satisfaction  of  human  nature.  In  the  place  of  the  merely 
mechanical  impulsion  of  passion,  which  is  coupled  with  grave 
disadvantages,  it  puts  forward,  as  a  new  principle  of  action, 
the  rational  calculation  of  interest.  The  faculties  are  brought 
into  the  service  of  this  idea  of  the  reason,  by  the  same  process 
of  concentration  as  was  needful  in  satisfying  the  passions  ; 
only  now  voluntarily  instead  of  spontaneously.  Being  an  idea 
instead  of  a  passion,  the  new  principle  supplies  a  real  motive, 
under  whose  guidance  our  natural  power  over  our  faculties 
is  developed  and  strengthened.  All  partial  ends  are  merged 
in  the  one  great  End  of  Interest,  to  which  the  means  is  self- 
control.  The  first  great  change  thus  wrought  by  reason  is, 
that  it  takes  the  direction  of  the  human  forces  into  its  own 
hand,  and  althougli,  even  when  by  a  natural  transformation 
the  new  system  of  conduct  acquires  all  the  force  of  a  passion, 
it  is  not  able  steadily  to  procure  for  the  idea  of  interest  the 
victory  over  the  single  passions,  the  change  nevertheless 
abides.  To  the  state  of  Passion  has  succeeded  the  state  of 
Egoism. 

Reason  must,  however,  he  thinks,  make  another  discovery 
before  there  is  a  truly  moral  stato  -  must  from  general  ideas 
rise  to  ideas  that  are  universal  and  absolute.  There  is  no 
real  equation,  he  holds,  between  Good  and  the  satisfaction  of 
the  primitive  tendencies,  which  is  the  good  of  egoism.  Not 
till  the  special  ends  of  all  creatures  are  regarded  as  elements 


IDEA   OF  UNIVERSAL   ORDER.  335 

of  one  great  End  of  creation,  of  Universal  Order,  do  we  obtain 
an  idea  whose  equivalence  to  the  idea  of  the  Good  requires  no 
proof.  The  special  ends  are  good,  because,  through  their 
realization,  the  end  of  creation,  which  is  the  absolute  Good, 
is  realized ;  hence  they  acquire  the  sacred  character  that  it 
has  in  the  eye  of  reason. 

No  sooner  is  the  idea  of  Universal  Order  present  to  the 
reason,  than  it  is  recognized  as  an  absolute  law  ;  and,  in  con- 
sequence, the  special  end  of  our  being,  by  participation  in  its 
character  of  goodness  and  sacredness,  is  henceforth  pursued 
as  a  duty,  and  its  satisfaction  claimed  as  a  right.  Also  every 
creature  assumes  the  same  position,  and  we  no  longer  merely 
concede  that  others  have  tendencies  to  be  satisfied,  and  con- 
sent from  Sympathy  or  Egoism  to  promote  their  good  ;  but 
the  idea  of  Universal  Order  makes  it  as  much  our  duty  to  re- 
spect and  contribute  to  the  accomplishment  of  their  good  as 
to  accomplish  our  own.  From  the  idea  of  good-in-itself,  i.e.. 
Order,  flow  all  duty,  right,  obligation,  morality,  and  natural 
legislation. 

He  carries  the  idea  of  Order  still  farther  back  to  the 
Deity,  making  it  the  expression  of  the  divine  thought,  and 
opening  np  the  religious  side  of  morality ;  but  he  does  not 
mean  that  its  obligatoriness  as  regards  the  reason  is  thereby 
increased.  He  also  identifies  it,  in  the  last  resort,  with  the 
ideas  of  the  Beautiful  and  the  True. 

We  have  now  reached  the  truly  moral  condition,  a  state 
perfectly  distinct  from  either  of  the  foregoing.  Even  when 
the  egoistic  and  the  moral  determination  prescribe  the  same 
conduct,  the  one  only  counsels,  while  the  other  obliges.  The 
one,  having  in  view  only  the  greatest  satisfaction  of  our 
nature,  is  personal  even  when  counselling  benefits  to  others; 
the  other  regarding  only  the  law  of  Order,  something  distinct 
from  self,  is  impersonal,  even  when  prescribing  our  own  good. 
Hence  there  is  in  the  latter  case  devouement  of  self  to  some- 
thing else,  and  it  is  exactly  the  deuouemeut  to  a  something 
that  is  not  self,  but  is  regarded  as  good,  that  gets  the  name 
of  virtue  or  mural  good.  Moral  good  is  voluntary  and  intel- 
ligent obedience  to  the  law  that  is  the  rule  of  our  conduct. 
As  an  additional  distinction  between  the  egoistic  and  the  moral 
determination,  he  mentions  the  judgment  of  merit  or  demerit 
that  ensues  upon  actions  when,  and  only  when,  they  have  a 
moral  character.  No  remorse  follows  an  act  of  mere 
imprudence  involving:  no  violation  of  universal  order. 

He  denies  that  there  is  any  real  contradiction  among  the 


336  ETHICAL   SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 

three  difiPerent  determinations.  Nothing  is  prescribed  in  the 
moral  law  that  is  not  also  in  accordance  with  some  primitive 
tendency,  and  with  self-interest  rightly  understood  ;  if  it  were 
not  so,  it  would  go  hard  with  virtue.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
everything  not  done  from  regard  to  duty  were  opposed  to 
moral  law  and  order,  society  could  not  only  not  subsist,  but 
would  never  have  been  formed.  When  a  struggle  does  ensue 
between  passion  and  self-interest,  passion  is  blind ;  when 
between  egoism  and  the  moral  determination,  egoism  is  at 
fault.  It  is  in  the  true  interest  of  Passion  to  be  sacrificed  to 
Egoism,  and  of  Egoism  to  be  sacrificed  to  Order. 

He  closes  the  review  of  the  various  moral  facts  by 
explaining  in  what  sense  the  succession  of  the  three  states 
is  to  he  understood.  The  state  of  Passion  is  historically 
first,  but  the  Egoistic  and  the  Moral  states  are  not  so  sharply 
defined.  As  soon  as  reason  dawns  it  introduces  the  moral 
motive  as  well  as  the  egoistic,  and  to  this  extent  the  two 
states  are  contemporaneous.  Only,  so  far  is  the  moral  law 
from  being  at  this  stage  fully  conceived,  that,  in  the  majority 
of  men,  it  is  never  conceived  in  its  full  clearness  at  all.  Their 
confused  idea  of  moral  law  is  the  so-called  moral  co7iscience, 
which  works  more  like  a  sense  or  an  instinct,  and  is  inferior 
to  the  clear  rational  conception  in  everything  except  that  It 
conveys  the  full  force  of  obligation.  In  its  grades  of  guilt 
human  justice  rightly  makes  allowance  for  different  degrees 
of  intelligence.  The  Egoistic  determination  and  the  Moral 
state,  such  as  it  is,  once  developed,  passion  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed abolished,  but  henceforth  what  really  takes  place  in 
all  is  a  perpetual  alternation  of  the  various  states.  Yet  though 
no  man  is  able  exclusively  to  follow  the  moral  determination, 
and  no  man  will  constantly  be  under  the  influence  of  any  one 
of  the  motives,  there  is  one  motive  commonly  uppermost 
whereby  each  can  be  characterized.  Thus  men,  according 
to  their  habitual  conduct,  are  known  as  passionate,  egoistic,  or 
virtuous. 

We  now  summarize  the  opinions  of  Jouff*roy  : — 
I. — The  Standard  is  the  Idea  of  Absolute  Good  or  Uni- 
versal Order  in  the  sense  explained  by  the  author.  Like 
Cousin,  he  identifies  the  '  good '  with  the  '  true.'  What, 
then,  is  the  criterion  that  distinguishes  moral  from  other 
iruths  ?  If  ohligation  be  selected  as  the  differentia,  it  is  in 
effect  to  give  up  the  attempt  to  determine  what  truths  are 
obligatory.  Tlie  idea  of  '  good  '  is  obviously  too  vague  to  be 
a  differentia.     How  &-r  the  idea  of  '  Universal  Order  '  gets  us 


SUMMARY.  337 

out  of  the  difficnlty  may  be  doubted,  especially  after  tbe 
candid  admission  of  tbe  author,  that  it  is  an  idea  of  wbicb  tbe 
majority  of  men  have  never  any  very  clear  notions. 

II. — The  moral  faculty  is  Reason ;  Conscience  is  hardly 
more  than  a  confused  feeling  of  obligatoriness. 

Sympathy  is  one  of  tbe  primitive  tendencies  of  our  nature. 
Jouffroy's  opinion  on  the  subject  is  open  to  tbe  objections 
urged  against  Butler's  psychology. 

He  upholds  the  freedom  of  the  Will,  but  embarrasses  his 
argument  by  admitting,  like  Reid,  that  there  is  a  stage  in  our 
existence  when  we  are  ruled  by  the  passions,  and  are  destitute 
of  liberty. 

III. — The  Summum  Bonum  is  the  end  of  every  creature; 
the  passions  ought  to  be  subordinated  to  self-interest,  and 
self-interest  to  morality. 

In  regard  to  the  other  points,  it  is  unnecessary  to  continue 
the  Bummary. 


15 


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I 


A  STANDARD  EVOLUTION  LIBRARY. 

flinching  Darwinian.  His  contributions  to  the  discussion  are  varied  and 
valuable,  and  as  collected  m  the  present  volume  they  ■will  be  seen  to  estab- 
lish a  claim  upon  the  thinking  Avorld,  which  will  be  extensively  felt  and 
cordially  acknowledged.  These  papers  not  only  illustrate  the  history  of 
the  controversy,  and  the  progress  of  the  discussion,  but  they  form  perliaps 
the  fullest  and  most  trustworthy  exposition  of  what  is  to  be  properly  under- 
stood by  'Darwinism'  that  is  to  be  found  in  our  language.  To  all  those 
timid  souls  Avho  are  worried  about  the  progress  of  science,  and  the  danger 
that  it  will  subvert  the  foundations  of  their  faith,  we  recommend  the  dis- 
passionate perusal  of  this  volume." — TTie  Popular  Science  Monthly. 

VI. 

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VII. 
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IX. 
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the  title  implies.  Professor  Schmidt  has  traced  the  links  of  connection  between 
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MICROBES,  FERMENTS,  AND  MOULDS.  By  E.  L.  Troues- 
SART.     With  107  Illustrations.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Microbes  are  everywhere  ;  every  species  of  plant  has  its  special  parasites, 
the  vine  hav'ng  more  than  one  hundred  foes  of  this  kind.  Fungi  of  a  microscopic 
size,  they  have  their  uses  in  nature,  since  they  clear  the  surface  of  the  earth  from 
dead  bodies  and  fecal  matter,  from  all  dead  and  useless  substances  which  are  th.e 
refuse  of  life,  and  return  to  the  soil  the  i-oluble  mineral  substances  from  which 
plants  are  derived.  All  fermented  liquors,  wine,  beer,  vinegar,  etc.,  are  artificially 
produced  by  the  species  of  microbes  called  ferments ;  they  also  cause  bread  to 
rise.  Others  are  injurious  to  us,  for  in  the  shape  of  spores  and  seeds  they  enter 
our  bodies  with  air  and  water  and  cause  a  large  number  of  the  diseases  to  which 
the  flesh  is  heir.  Many  physicians  do  not  accept  the  microbian  theory,  consider- 
ing that  when  microbes  are  found  in  the  blood  they  are  neither  the  cause  of  the 
disease,  nor  the  contagious  element,  nor  the  vehicle  of  contagion.  In  France  the 
opponents  of  the  microbian  theory  are  Robin,  Bechamp,  and  Jousset  de  Bellesme ; 
in  England,  Lewis  and  Lionel  Beale.  The  writer  comes  to  the  conclusion  that 
Pasteur's  microbian  theory  is  the  only  one  that  explains  all  factB."— A'tf?^  York 
Tinus. 

EARTHQUAKES  AND  OTHER  EARTH  MOVEMENTS. 

By  John  Milne,  Professor  of  Mining  and  Geology  in  the  Imperial 
College  of  Engineering,  Tokio,  Japan.  With  38  Illustrations.  12mo. 
Cloth,  $1.75. 

"In  this  little  book  Professor  Milne  has  endeavored  to  bring  tocetherall  that 
je  known  concerning  the  nature  and  causes  of  earthquake  movements.  His  task 
was  one  of  much  diflBcuity.  Professor  Milne's  excellent  work  in  the  science  of 
seismology  has  been  done  in  Japan,  in  a  region  of  incessant  shocks  of  sufficient 
energy  to  make  observation  possible,  yet.  with  rare  exceptions,  of  no  disastrous 
efiects.  He  has  haa  the  good  fortune  to  be  aided  by  Mr.  Thomas  Gray,  a  gentle- 
man of  great  constructive  skill,  as  well  as  hy  Professors  J.  A.  Ewing,  W.  S.  Chap- 
lin, and  his  other  colleacrues  in  the  scientific  colony  which  has  gathered  about  the 
Imperial  University  of  Japan.  To  these  L'entlem'en  we  owe  the  best  of  our  sci- 
ence of  seismology,  for  before  their  achievements  we  had  nothing  of  value  con- 
cerning the  physical  conditions  of  earthquakes  except  the  great  works  of  Robert 
Mallet;  and  Mallet,  with  all  his  genius  and  devotion  to  the  subject,  had  but  few 
chances  to  observe  the  actual  shocks,  and  so  failed  to  understand  many  of  their 
important  features."— 2%€  Nation. 


\ 


New  York:  D.  APPLETOX  &  CO.,  1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


NEW  CLASSICAL  TEXTS 


DR.  HARPER'S  INDUCTIVE  CLASSICAL  SERIES: 

Harper  and  Burgess's  Inductive  Latin  Primer.     Cloth, 

i2mo,  424  pages      ........   $1.00 

Harper  and  Burgess's  Inductive  Latin  Method.     i2mo, 

cloth,  323  pages        ........      1.00 

Harper  and  Tolman's  Caesar.    Eight  books.     i2mo,  cloth, 

512  pages.     Illustrated     .         .         .         .         .         .         .1.20 

Harper  and    Miller's   Vergil.     Six  books  of  the  Aeneid. 

i2mo,  cloth.     X -[- 461  pages.     Illustrated      .         .         .1.25 

Harper  and   Waters's   Inductive   Greek    Method.     By 

Dr.  W.  R.  Harper  and  William  E.   Waters,  Ph.D. 
i2mo,  cloth,  355  pages  ......      i.oo 

IN  PREPARATION: 

An  Inductive  Greek  Primer;        Xenophon's  Anabasis; 
Cicero's  Orations ;  Supplementary  Reading 

Latin  Prose  Composition ;  in  Latin  ; 

Supplementary  Greek  Reading ;    Homer's  Iliad ; 
Greek  Prose  Composition. 


OTHER   STANDARD  CLASSICAL  WORKS 

Harkness's  Easy  Method  for  Beginners  in  Latin.  i2mo, 

half  seal,  348  pages.     Illustrated $1.20 

Harkness's  Standard  Latin  Grammar.     i2mo,  cloth,  430 

pages      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .1.12 

Lindsay's  Satires  of  Juvenal.     i6mo,  half  seal,  pages  xvi., 

226.     Illustrated i.oo 

Hadley  and  Allen's  Greek  Grammar.      i2mo,  cloth,  422 

pages      ..........      1.50 


Section  ij  {Ancient  Language)  fully  desci'ibes  a  large  number  of 
Greek  and  Latin  Grammars,  Methods,  Readers,  and  Texts.  It  is 
sent  free.      Correspondence  cordially  invited, 

American  Book  Company 

New  York  Cincinnati  Chicago  Boston  Atlanta 

(*97.) 


i.  ms    uuyjr^    is    i^s^j—    uii    iiic    lasi 

date  stamped  below. 


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